The Winter Ball
by DragonLady37
Summary: "It's not so bad," Malfoy says, his voice low so that only I can hear. "New adventures. New friends. Time to get a fresh start." He laughs lightly. "Besides, I heard McGonnagal was giving us longer library hours to keep up with our studies." "I really love the library," I whisper, as if it's a secret. He laughs. "Oh, I know, Granger." / AU, EWE, 8th Year, DRAMIONE, M for lemons.
1. Part 1

**A/N: So, this is my first fic in about twelve years. The whole story is written, and will take place over 5 parts. I'll post them all quickly, but I need to revise each first. I hope the time hops aren't distracting or disorienting, and I'll give you a warning for the one part where there's some adult content (it's not this one). No Beta, so all errors are 100% mind. I hope you all enjoy!**

**AU, EWE**

**Disclaimer: I'm no JKR, but I appreciate her letting me borrow her lovely characters for this AU.**

* * *

**December 15th, 1998  
After the Winter Ball  
Eighth Year**

_How did I get here?_

Tears pour down my face as I hide behind the tapestry in the fourth floor corridor. I hold my knees against my chest, burying my face, trying to be quiet. People are calling my name-Harry and Ginny-looking for me, but I just keep my eyes closed tight.

_How did things go so wrong?_

And then, there are hands on me, firmly gripping my shoulders, pulling me toward strong arms and a broad chest. My fingers grip his robes as I let him hold me up.

"It's OK," he whispers against my cheek. His breath is warm and tickles the hairs that have fallen forward. "I'm so sorry. For everything, But it's all going to be OK."

His voice cracks and his hands on me shake and I feel panic rise up in my chest.

_Not you too._

"No." My voice is scratchy as I look up at him, hard to see in the dark. I scramble so that I am on my knees, my hands gripping his cheeks, scratchy with a day's worth of white-blond stubble. "You can't leave me."

"Hermione." His voice is quiet but I hear in his voice what he means to do. I grip his robes in my fingers more tightly.

"I hear it. In your voice. You're going to try to fix all of this by leaving." I lean in and press my forehead to his, the pain of what just happened dimming as his breath cools the trails of tears on my cheeks. "Please don't leave me," I whisper against his lips and I feel him slump.

"All of this is my fault," he says, and suddenly I'm the one holding him up. "If I'd just listened-" His voice chokes off as his grip on my arms tightens.

_You're wrong. I need you._

I press my lips to his to stop him from going over what had already been done. He hesitates for only a moment before kissing me back. His mouth against mine is insistent-firm, but gentle. And then he's kissing the corner of my mouth, my nose, my eyes, my cheeks. He stroking my arms and pulling me to stand so he can pull me that much closer. I wrap my arms around him and bury my head in soft space where his neck meets his shoulder. He smells like cedar and I sigh, feeling my tension melt.

_Please don't leave me._

I place small, open mouth kisses on his neck and he kisses the corner of my eye, my forehead, my hair, the smooth stretch of skin beneath my ear.

"I won't leave," he says, his voice rough and raw, like he's been screaming. "Because I'm selfish, and I love you." My heart stutters as I try to nuzzle closer to his skin. "And I'm so sorry for that."

* * *

**September 1, 1998  
First Day of School  
Eighth Year**

_How did we get here? How did we fall apart?_

I stand in front of the Hogwarts Express, excited and nervous and sad. All around me, regular students are hugging their parents, kissing cheeks, crying, and excitedly loading their trunks onto the train. And here I am, beginning my 8th year, scarred and afraid and alone. My parents are having their memories restored-a process the Healers at St. Mungo's said might take up to a year, because of how many memories were erased-and only one of oldest friends stands before me.

"I wish I was coming with you." Harry touches my arm lightly and I jump at the contact, but quickly smile. "But I just don't think I could go back there. Not yet."

"I wish you were coming, too. But of course I understand," I say before hugging him around his neck for the barest of moments. "I'm sure auror training will keep you plenty busy. And no exams!" I try to laugh lightly, but it falls flat. Out of habit, we both look to the empty spot beside us where Ron should be.

"He wanted to come see you off," Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding my eyes, and I know it's a lie. We broke up a month ago, and we hadn't spoken since. I wasn't sure I wanted to speak with him, but part of me still thought he should be here.

_We were supposed to be together. All of us._

"I'm sure he's very busy." I smile, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes, and I see Harry wince. I didn't know what Ron had told him, but I hadn't filled him in on the details. I didn't want to relive it.

I open my mouth to convince him I'm OK when the last warning whistle blows.

"I'll write at least once a week," he says, and I lunge to give him another hug, making this one count.

"Me too." I smile as I see him trying not to look around. "And I'll keep an eye on Ginny."

He flushes and ducks his head, straightening his glasses as he nods. He hugs me one last time, and it feels like my ribs might crack, and I smile.

* * *

On the train, I hope to find an empty compartment. A lot of kids didn't come back this year, and while I realize why, I feel sad again. The war touched most of us. A lot of parents weren't sure the school was safe. One of my hopes was that, with all the attention the press gave me, my presence might show others that Hogwarts was safe.

I move toward the back, listening for voices before popping my head into any compartment. It's near the back that I find one that's quiet. I don't particularly want anyone asking where Harry, or worse, where Ron, was. I push the door open as the train hits a bump and my hair flies in my face. I right myself, pushing my manic curls behind one ear, and my heart jumps into my throat.

"I didn't realize-"

"I'm so sorry-"

We speak at the same time and stop at the same time. Draco Malfoy, in muggle jeans and a white button down, is standing, staring at me with wide, panic-stricken eyes. The last I saw him, was in the Great Hall, huddled with his parents, covered in blood and dirt, eyes dim.

We both stand, silent, as the train picks up its pace, and then I shake my head.

"You were here first. I'll go find another cabin." I move and he steps forward, nearly grabbing my arm, stopping just close enough for me to feel the heat of his fingers through my thin, long-sleeved shirt. Its enough to make me stop, though I recoil. For a moment, I think I see him wince.

"No. Please." He motions toward his seat where a book lays open. My fingers itch to flip the page, to see what he's reading. "I can find somewhere else."

"That's stupid." I hear the bite in my words, I'm reminded of Ron, and wish I could take it back, but I can't. His face begins to harden, which makes this all easier. "You were here first." I straighten up, feeling like a third year again, about to punch him in his arrogant face at the first sign of aggression.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman," he says, his jaw tight. I see his hands clench into fists at his sides. He takes a deep breath. "Granger," he growls my name, "please, just have a seat."

I'm not sure if it's the fact that he said please, or my natural curiosity that makes me want to stay. I look to the bench across from his, empty and safe, and I think of riding the train to Hogwarts for my last year alone.

The fire leaves my eyes and I sit. He closes the compartment door behind me, leaving it open a crack-giving me an escape that I instantly appreciate-and then he returns to his book.

I settle in, looking in my own bag for the book I brought for the trip, then look up. He's reading against and I can see the spine. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. An American Muggle writer. I scoff, and his grey eyes pop up to stare at me. He sees me eyeing the cover of his novel and his cheeks turn pink.

"Science fiction. I didn't think that was in your wheelhouse, Malfoy." I do my best to imitate his smirk, hoping for something on this train ride to feel familiar without my friends. Friend, I remind myself, pushing Ron out of my mind.

_Fight with me._

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Granger." His voice is growly again, and I uncross and recross my legs, suddenly feeling warm.

"I haven't read that one," I said, nodding to his book. Why am I still talking? "Is it any good?"

He nods before placing a bookmark to keep his place and offers the book to me. "One of my favorites. I've read it three times."

I take the paperback and am surprised at how warm it is from being in his hands. I read the back quickly and meet his eyes. "A little boy trained for battle. Child soldiers." I feel goosebumps on my arms.

"And he doesn't even know what he's fighting for. Or against." His eyes never leave mine, and suddenly I'm glad Ron and Harry aren't here. "And he's in Dragon army." He chuckles. "Like me. My name, I suppose." He clears his throat. Is he nervous?

I nod and offer Malfoy his book back, but don't lean back to my seat. I stay, leaning forward, elbows perched on my knees. The compartment suddenly feels much smaller.

"Does he ever find his way? This Ender person? This Dragon?" My voice is low and I watch his eyes widen and a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Eventually."

I sit back with my own smile, uncrossing and re-crossing my legs to alleviate some of the strange heat. "Good.

* * *

**September 1st, 1998  
The Great Hall  
The Sorting**

I sit at the new table designated for eighth years and it just feels wrong.

_How did I get here?_

All the tables are smaller this year, a result of fewer students coming back. We eighth years would be taking the same classes as the seventh years-those of us who missed most, or all, of our seventh year-as well as some new classes, offered only to us. McGonnagall's speech is about inner-house unity, about how the eighth year class is an example of how we should all work together. I sit up taller, even though all I want is to to go to the Gryffindor table, to find Ginny, to make her be my friend again.

There a few of us that have returned from each house. From Gryffindor, myself, Parvati Patil, and Neville Longbottom. From Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones, From Ravenclaw, Terry Boot and Padma Patil. And from Slytherin, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and of course, Draco Malfoy.

I look over at the Gryffindor table where Ginny sits with the regular students, staunchly not meeting my gaze. She blames me for ending things with Ron. They all do, all except Harry.

I look away from her when the Sorting starts and feel a prickly feeling at the base of my neck. My eyes snap up. Across the table and a few seats down, Malfoy is staring at me, an unreadable look on his face.

For some reason, my cheeks heat, but I nod at him and am surprised when he nods back. It seems our little truce on the train is holding. I turn my attention back to the Sorting, and to the introduction of the Head Boy and Girl, just in time to hear that not only are Eighth Years at their own table, we're also in our own dormitory.

I won't be going back to the Gryffindor rooms.

_Why did everything have to change?_

After the feast, we are led to our new dorms by the Head Boy and Girl. If I'd stayed for my last year, I know I would have been Head Girl. I had the highest marks. And part of me was angry that I missed out on that, even if it was for a truly good cause. I'd lost so much.

"Doin' all right there, Granger?" His voice is next to me and is as smooth as it was growly earlier on the train. I'm proud I don't jump away, even if my heartbeat spikes.

"Perfect," I say, not looking at him, hoping my sarcasm comes through. "This is exactly how I imagined my last year at Hogwarts. Isolated from my house. Moving into a new home. My best friends far away." I cringe. I'd said friends again. Oh well.

"It's not so bad," Malfoy says, his voice low so that only I can hear. "New adventures. New friends. Sort of a time to get a fresh start." He laughs lightly, but it seems forced. "Besides, I heard McGonnagal was making our curfew later than the rest of the school. And giving us longer library hours to keep up with our studies."

I perk up at this, and look at him, a smile forming at the thought of library time away from the younger students, who were often only there to snog.

He laughs at my expression, in a way that doesn't make me feel like he's laughing at me. "All it took to get you to see things differently was the library?" He's smiling-not smirking, smiling-and I find myself smiling back.

"I really love the library," I whisper, as if it's a secret, and he laughs louder, earning strange looks from our classmates. I feel myself blush, but he ignores them.

"Oh, I know, Granger. We all know." He's still smiling as we walk.

"So, a fresh start," I say quietly, heart racing again. He turns to look at me from the corner of his eye.

"Could be." He shrugs.

"And new friends?" I ask, feeling my cheeks grow pink.

"And new adventures," he says, which I don't understand, but I nod.

"Can I ask-" I take a deep breath, and I notice we've both started walking slowly-much slower than the rest of the group. "Ask a question?"

He stops completely and looks at me, his white-blond hair falling over one eye.

"Why the change of heart?" he asks for me, his expression looking more open and human than I'd ever see before.

I nod, my own heart in my throat.

"I guess I just got tired of being the bad guy." He shrugs. He won't meet my eye.

I stick out my hand, and his head pops up. I came back to Hogwarts to make things in my life right. To find an ending that felt right. Giving someone else a chance to do the same, to find their right ending, was a step toward that.

"Hi," I say, a small smile on my face. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'd love it if we could be friends."

He smirks, but it's different than before. There's no malice in it, and I find that it suits him.

"Draco Malfoy," he says, taking my hand in his. His hand is wide, his fingers long and warm. "I think I'd like that."

He squeezes my hand once, and then laughs. "We should hurry before the lock us out."

Our group is at the end of the hall, a few eye are looking back, but it's clear they're waiting for us to get the password.

I laugh as he lets go of my hand and we job, side by side, to our new common room door.


	2. Part 2

**This story will not be much of a slow burn. With only 5 parts, I decided to move through the events pretty quickly, only focusing on the important days. I hope that you all don't mind! I love a good slow Dramione build as much as anyone, but I'm also pretty impatient. I hope you enjoy Part 2! Reviews are appreciated it!**

* * *

**October 1st, 1998  
****Prefects Meeting**

"This is ridiculous," I whisper as I watch our Head Boy and Head Girl tell us all about a stupid dance for Halloween.

"It could be fun." Next to me, Malfoy is smirking and watching me from the corner of his eye. "Dressing up. Someone spiking the punch. General fun and chaos. Kid stuff." He glances at me again. "_Fun,_ Granger."

I roll my eyes, cross my arms, and huff, sinking lower in my chair. "Dances are only fun if someone wants to go _with_ you. There's no fun going stag."

His eyes widen and he opens his mouth like he's going to say something when the Heads dismiss the meeting. I missed the last half of it, but the Head Girl will owl all of us the notes she had the seventh year prefects take anyway.

Everyone stands to leave, and I lean over to repack my bag. When I stand up again, he's still there, which doesn't surprise me. We often walk together. But when I look in his eyes, what I see there makes my stomach flutter.

"Headed to the library?" he asks, already knowing the answer. I nod, and he smiles. He has his hands in the pockets of his robes and he's rocking on his feet. "Want company?"

_Desperately. _

"Sure." I hike my bag a little higher and we head toward the library.

"So, you don't want to go to the dance alone?" His hands are still in his pockets and he's staring at his feet as we walk.

"Of course not. Who would?" I think of the Yule Ball, fourth year, and of how nice it was to be on Viktor's feel desired for a single night, even if Viktor was a bit boring.

He takes a deep breath before he asks, "Would you like to go with me?"

I stop so suddenly it takes him a few steps to realize I'm not with him. He looks back at me and I see how red his ears are, despite his voice being calm. My heart is hammering against my ribs. I manage a smile.

"Sure."

_How did we get here?_

His face cracks into a genuine smile-something I see rarely. "Brilliant." He nods toward the library and keeps walking, and I dart to keep up, a matching smile on my face.

* * *

**October 31st, 1998  
The Halloween Dance**

After much debate, we decide on matching costumes that are terrifying to both of us. He borrows a Gryffindor tie, and I borrow a Slytherin one. I decide I don't mind the green and silver as much as I'd thought I would, so I put a little bit of silver eyeshadow on and tie my hair back with an emerald green scrunchy. At the last minute, I put on some lip gloss. It's Halloween, after all.

We meet in our common room and I try to bite back a smile behind. His red and gold tie is crooked, and stares down at it looking extremely uncomfortable. I giggle and he looks up at me with a scowl.

"It's not funny," he says, brushing his hair off his forehead.

"Oh, but it is," I say, stepping forward with a new sense of bravery to straighten his tie. He tenses, and a blush creeps up above his shirt collar, but I pretend not to notice. We opted against wearing robes, so that our rival house colors would show more clearly. Once his tie is straight, I pat his collar down and fight back the urge to leave my hands on his shoulders just a moment longer. "There," I say, stepping back. "Much better."

"Thanks." His eyes are large and his pupils are dilated and I feel myself blush. He clears his throat, and holds out his arm. "Ready to go?" he asks, and my stomach flips.

I smile at him, all bravery gone, and take his arm. It's warm under my fingers. "As ready as I'll ever be."

We walk into the Great Hall and I half expect the room to go quiet at the sight of us together, especially given our costumes. But, aside from a few mildly surprised glances, we're ignored. It's lovely.

"Do you want to get something to drink? Or we could dance?" Draco's mouth is next to my ear as he speaks, and I'm grateful for the low lighting as my face blooms scarlet.

I summon all the Gryffindor bravery I can muster before I answer. "I'd like to dance, I think." I dare to glance up at him and am shocked at the silly grin on his face. It must be contagious, because I can't help but smile back as he leads me out into the mix of bodies dancing wildly to an upbeat dance number.

We arrive on the dance floor just as the song ends. The music, blaring from giant charmed jack-o-lanterns, switches to a ballad, and my heart races.

All around us, couples pair off. Girls put their heads on boys' shoulders. Chests and bellies press together.

I look to Draco, to tell him we can wait for the next song, but his expression stops me from saying a word. He looks nervous as he holds his hand out to me. Without a second through I step into him. One of his hands rests on my hip, the other holds my hand, he begins to move us-swaying to the music, barely an inch between us.

We only dance for a few moments before my Gryffindor courage resurfaces. I press my luck by stepping closer to him. Part of me expects him to recoil, to get angry and walk away, but I'm surprised and relieved when he sighs and pulls me just a tiny bit closer. I tentatively lay my cheek against his chest and feel his heart ricocheting off his ribs. I smile, feeling a similar rhythm in my own chest. His hand on my hip slips just a little to my lower back and and he grips my other hand just a little tighter.

_How did we get here? _

When the song ends, I reluctantly pull away. I look up at him in the dim light and am pleased to see his cheeks are just as pink as mine feel. I feel bold and lace my fingers with his. He smiles at me and rubs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles and I shiver.

"Thirsty?" he asks, his voice is scratchier than usual. I nod and let him lead me through the other students toward the punch table. It's only when I see the people nearby that I falter. He feels me pause and follows my gaze. Beside the table stand Blaise Zabini with his date, Ginny. I knew she and Harry were apart, but I didn't think she'd be with someone else-especially not someone like Zabini-so soon. Then again, I'm here with Draco. I decide not to judge. Luna is there too, holding hands with Theodore Nott.

"We can go, if you want." His voice drifts down to me like snow-slow and sad-and I know he must think I'm ashamed of him.

I smile up at him, Gryffindor courage renewed, and squeeze his fingers. "We've only danced once," I say. "We can't leave yet." I take the lead, guiding him toward the treats table.

"Malfoy!" Zabini says, smiling from ear to ear. "Your costume is terrifying."

Draco smiles and adjusts his tie almost proudly. "It's Halloween, Blaise. I couldn't think of anything scarier than being a Gryffindor." Beside Blaise, Ginny rolls her eyes.

"And what about you, Granger?" He looks me up and down. "I see you've opted for the _sexy-_Halloween look. Silver and green really do suit you." Blaise winked at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Thank you, Zabini, but there's really nothing more terrifying than being a _snake_." I squeeze Draco's hand to take any unintentional sting from my words. "And what are you supposed to be?" I glance at his costume, feeling my cheeks stained crimson at how little he's wearing.

"I'm obviously Tarzan, _king_ of the jungle." He then let out an ear splitting imitation of Tarzan and beat his chest. He wore nothing but a loin cloth, and his dark skin shone in the candlelight as if he'd been oiled up.

"And you, Ginny?" I ask, my heart racing. We hadn't talked at all this year. She looked surprised that I addressed her, but cleared her throat as she came forward in a long, khaki shirt and matching button down, hair in a bun, glasses perched on the edge of her nose.

"Oh. Well. I'm Jane. I suppose." She smiled at me then as if she were afraid I'd reject her and slowly things clicked into place. We hadn't spoken all year, but maybe it wasn't because she hated me now. Maybe it was because she thought I didn't want to speak with her. I'd shut myself off after Ron, and when she hadn't sought me out, I'd assumed the worst. A small piece of my heart that had broken off clicked back into its proper place.

"I think you look brilliant," I say, smiling brightly. And she smiles back.

"Oi! What about us? We look brilliant, too!" Theo Nott says as he pulls Luna from behind the sweets table. Her cheeks are flushed.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna says. "You look nice."

"As do you, Luna." I take a moment to look her over. "Erm. What exactly are you?" Draco lets go of my hand and grabs two cups of punch, offering me one with a shy smile.

"I'm a blibbering humdinger," she says, gesturing to the strange spiral antenna on her head and the long, skin-tight, fuzzy gown she wore.

"And I'm a grumble-horn snorlax," Theo says proudly. He puffs his chest out, showing off the navy spots all over his light pink, spandex bodysuit.

"A crumple-horned snorkack," Luna corrects, patting his chest.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" he asks, looking confused, and Luna presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

I feel my cheeks heat at that simple gesture, not sure why. It just seemed so intimate.

Draco lays his hand lightly on my lower back and the heat moves from my face to my belly. Ginny sees his hand and she lifts her eyebrows.

"Well, we'll see all of you later, I suppose," I say, suddenly needing to be away from their prying eyes.

"Ladies," Draco says, bowing slightly toward Ginny and Luna before we walk away, his hand guiding me as if we were dancing.

Once we're a little bit away, I slow and look up at him. The floating candles and jack-o-lanterns cast light and shadows across his face. Draco looks down at me as if I might spontaneously combust, and I suddenly realize _he's nervous._ I take the punch from his hand and sit it, along with mine, at a table, before leading him back onto the dance floor.

It's a bouncier number, but I still lean into him as he presses his fingers into my hip. His heart is still racing and I wonder if he can feel mine doing the same thing.

_How did we get here? _

"Your friends are nice," I say, leaning back enough to look up at him.

"So are yours," he says back, a smirk on his face. Suddenly I imagine leaning up and kissing the corner of that smirk, as Luna kissed Theo, and I feel my face heat. I lay my cheek against his chest again to hide it.

The song changes, but he doesn't let me go, and I feel myself sink against him until we're almost standing still as the music blares. After another song, I lean back, and I feel him sigh as he looks down at me.

"Can we go for a walk?" My voice is quiet, but he's staring at my mouth.

_Please say yes._

"Sure," he says, and I smile.

As I lead him out of the Great Hall, hand in mine, I feel my hand tremble.

"Are you cold?" he asks, giving my hand a squeeze.

I shake my head and shrug. He lets go of my hand and drapes his warm arm over my shoulders. With a smile that I try to hide, I lean into him.

Once at the lake, we stop and look out over the water. It's cool out, but not cold. There's a patch of grass with a clear view of the stars, and we sit together. I press my shoulder into him and he pulls me a little closer, his fingers circling my shoulder warmly.

_How do we stay here?_

"Can I ask you a question?" his voice drifts through the night air like fog and I nod against his shoulder. He pauses for a long moment. "Are you attracted to me?" His voice catches and I jerk back to see his jaw tense.

"What?" My heart thunders behind my ribs. I inadvertently pull back and I see him tense.

"Never mind, Granger," he says, releasing my shoulder and moving to stand. I panic. He hadn't called me Granger in weeks. He was leaving. This was the thing I'd been waiting for, and I was ruining it.

I do the only thing I can to get him to stay. I lunge at him and knock him onto his back, and lay across his chest. He stares up at me with wide eyes, and in the moonlight, his gray eyes look silver.

"What are you doing?" His voice is low, his breaths uneven.

"Am I attracted to you?" I ask again, my voice low. He nods, and his nervousness gives me courage. Gryffindor courage.

Slowly I move so that I'm straddling his lap. He presses his eyes closed, his breaths coming short and fast. With hands that should shake, but don't, I pull on his tie until he has to either sit up or choke. He supports himself with his hands as I put my hands on his shoulders, where they wanted to rest when I helped him straighten the tie earlier, and I meet his eyes. His pupils are dilated and his lips are open the tiniest bit.

With a deep breath I lean forward and press my lips to his, only to pull back a moment later. It was chaste, but my lips are tingling. His lips quirk up at the corners and I feel mine do the same.

"What about you?" I ask, acutely aware of my position, straddling his lap. "Are you attracted to me?"

He sits up and I feel his stomach muscles contract as he brings his hands to either side of my face. He brushes hair that had come loose behind my ears and lets his hands fall to my neck, resting against the top of my shoulders.

"You're the most beautiful, most brilliant witch I've ever seen in my entire life," he says, his breath ghosting over my lips in a way that makes me shiver.

"So, yes?" I ask with a smile, leaning forward slightly.

"So, yes," he says.

I can't help myself as I close the gap and press my lips to his again. I gasp into his mouth as his hands span my waist, my ribs, pulling me even closer to him. His tongue darts in and I taste the punch from earlier and hear myself moan as his tongue dances with mine. His hands are on my face again, pulling my hair down from it's messy ponytail and getting lost in the tangles. I wrap my arms around his neck and let them grip his broad, Seeker's shoulders. My skirt has ridden up, and through his trousers beneath me I feel his arousal and I moan again, though I don't mean to this time.

_How did we get here? _

_How do I stay?_

I know I have to slow this down. I feel my body trying to arch into him. My body aches for this kind of contact, for this kind of connection, but it's too fast. Too much at once. It can't happen.

_Not yet. _

I slow our kiss and press my forehead to his. His breath is ragged as it passes over my wet, swollen lips. He leans up slightly to rub this tip of his nose over mine.

"Aren't you glad you came to the dance, Granger?" he asks, a genuine smile in his voice. I give into my earlier temptation and kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling his smile broaden and feeling my toes tingle.

"Very glad."


	3. Part 3

**Long chapter comin' at ya! Also, I said I'd give you a heads up when the "M" rated chapter arrived, and, well, here we are! I think it's fairly tasteful, but if it's not your cup of tea, just stop when you come to that first divider line. Thanks to everyone who's reading! And to everyone who's reviewing! **

* * *

**December 1st, 1998  
The Eighth Year Common Room**

Draco sat on the love seat in front of the fire, a book in his hands, reading glasses perched on the end of his long nose. I watch him from the doorway and smile.

"You can come closer if you'd like a better look," he says, never looking up at me as he flips a page and pushes his glasses up a little with his first knuckle.

I let out a laugh and cross the room, letting myself fall in his lap between his chest and the book. I pluck the book from his hands and tuck his bookmark into it before laying in on the table.

"I was reading," he says with a smile, and I kiss the corner of his mouth-my favorite place.

"You can read later." I snake my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. When I go to do it again he turns so that my lips press against his and I sigh. He rubs his nose along my cheek and chuckles.

"Hermione Granger, telling someone _not _to read. What has the world come to?" He kisses my cheek and peppers light kisses down to just below my ear.

_How did I get here?_

I laugh. "Draco Malfoy, wanting to _read_ instead of snog his girlfriend _senseless._ It's like we're in some alternate universe."

"Snog her senseless, huh?" He plucks his glasses off of his nose, placing them on his book, then looks at me in a way that turns my insides to jello.

"What I meant was-"

He cuts me off by pressing his mouth to mine, running his tongue along my lips until I open them, giving him access to my mouth. I hum in satisfaction as his arms around me tighten and pull me closer. My hands cup his to his face, brushing the light stubble on his cheeks that I never see unless the firelight catches it just right. He rubs up my sides and back down, letting his hands settle on my waist, his fingers strong and warm against my sides.

I'm suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I'm wearing yoga pants and a loose-fitting, very thin sweater, having just come from yoga with Ginny and Luna. I can feel him against me, almost as if there was no fabric between us, and suddenly I _need _him to be against me. I deepen the kiss, pulling him closer.

"Not again," comes Neville's voice from the doorway. This had happened so many times already-Neville walking in on us, just like this, in our shared common room-we don't even jump apart. I lean my forehead against Draco's and smile as he closes his eyes and takes a noisy breath through his nose.

"It would quit happening if you'd knock. Or, I don't know, be somewhere else," Draco says, opening his eyes to stare at me, not at Neville, who huffs as he enters the room, followed by Blaise and Hannah Abbott.

"You do have _bedrooms_, you know," Blaise says with a smirk as he sits on the love seat with us, patting my leg where it is draped over Draco's lap.

I swing my legs away and he puts. I move to stand, but Draco wraps his arms possessively around my middle and holds me against him, burying his face in my curls.

"Then maybe _you_ should go to _yours_." I can hear the tension in his words and feel it in his arms around my waist. During these more intimate moments, we'd never ventured into either of our bedrooms. Just the thought of it sends my heart racing in a staccato rhythm.

"Longbottom, Abbott, and I were going to have a game of Exploding Snap," Blaise says, a twinkle in his eye. "I was going to invite Gin and make this a proper four way-" Neville turns beet red, "but she's underage and has to abide by the earlier curfew." He shrugs. "How would you like to make this three-way a five-way? Granger? You game?" He raises his eyebrows suggestively at me and I can't help but giggle at how ridiculous he is.

Suddenly, Draco is standing, and taking me with him. I shriek as he stands, holding me around the middle like a small child. He sits me down on my feet and turns me toward him. His hands on my arms fidget as he looks down at me with his silvery-grey eyes.

"My room? Or yours?" If I couldn't feel the way his hands shake against my arms, I might have mistaken his low voice for one that was self-assured, instead of nervous. Nervous he was pushing me. Nervous he was doing something I wouldn't be OK with.

I meet his eyes, then look down at Blaise. "You're sleeping with Neville tonight, Zabini." I turn back to Draco and feel a smirk play on my lips. "Yours. Daphne's a light sleeper."

Draco licks his bottom lips and smiles before grabbing my hand and dragging me off, only pausing to rush back for his book and glasses.

"Oi! I didn't mean it!" Neville yells as we dash down the hallway, hearts pounding. My face is stretched in a smile.

It wasn't that I hadn't ever been in his room before. We'd come in here to study a few times, always in the daytime, sitting on the floor, but never at night, and never like this. We walk in-his bed on the right, Blaise's on the left-and stop.

The eighth year dorms were different than the others. Every bedroom held two beds, so there was a little more privacy than in the house dormitories, but not much. Draco was already dressed in his pajamas-lightweight, charcoal pants with a soft, black, long-sleeved tee shirt. He never wore short sleeves, and though we'd never really talked about it, I knew it was because he didn't want people to see his Mark. He scratched at it sometimes when he got stressed or nervous and I wanted to be able to take that away from him, but I knew I couldn't.

As we walk in, he slows, and I see the nervousness settle into the way he holds himself. No longer posturing for the others, he seems more timid. He leaves the door ajar, and I know he is giving me an out. Just like on the train that first day. He doesn't want me to feel trapped.

Without an ounce of hesitation, I turn and shut it. I point my wand at my belly, casting a silent charm, then verbally cast a locking spell and a silencing spell before turning back to face him. I lay my wand on the table by the door.

He stares at me, eyes hooded, as he clenches and unclenches his hands.

"Hermione." He meets my eyes and the raw desire I see there makes me clench and unclench my thighs. "We don't have to _do_ anything."

I bite my bottom lips and watch his eyes travel down to my mouth. I take a deep, slow breath, and walk over to him, placing my hands on his hips.

"Do you not want to?" I ask, my voice breathy and quiet. He visibly swallows and tucks a curl behind my ear.

He puts his hands on my waist. "I _very much_ want to." He kisses my cheek. "You have no idea how much." He kisses my other cheek. "But I've wanted to-" my nose, "for Merlin knows how long-" the corner of my mouth, "and not doing anything tonight-" the other corner, "won't change anything." He presses a soft kiss to my lips, keeping a few inches of space between us.

"Well, what if _I _want to?" I take a step into him and immediately feel his arousal pressing into my belly from the waistband of his pajama pants. He tries to step back, but my hands on his hips keep him in place.

_Is this real? _

"I don't want you to feel pressured." His tone is even, but his fingers on my sides clench and unclench again, a sure sign of his indecision, his discomfort, his desire.

"I don't." I lean down and kiss his neck, just below his ear. "Do you?" I lean back, suddenly worried I'd overstepped. Suddenly worried he's saying all this because _I'm _pressuring _him. _

He hastily presses his lips against mine as his arms wrap tightly around my ribs.

"For the brightest witch of our age, you can say some really daft things." He chuckles against my mouth and I can't help but smile.

"It was a fair question," I say just before he leans in and deepens the kiss, tilting his head so that he can gain better access to my mouth. I oblige him as I run my hands up his chest and let them get lost in his soft, white-blonde hair.

"It was daft," he says between kisses as we start to move away from the door.

"I'm a progressive witch," I say as he kisses down my neck, into the crook of my shoulder. "I didn't want you to feel pressured."

He bites lightly at the tender skin at the base of my neck and I gasp. He immediately covers my mouth with his own and I feel myself melt a little more toward him, heat gathering between my thighs. We'd never done this sort of thing, not really, though I'd been tempted. We were always in the common room, though, where hands could only roam so far. It had been a natural barrier to all of this, constantly simmering below the surface.

I feel out of my element in a good way. And when I feel his hands on me tremble, I know he's out of his element as well.

We kiss that way, hands roaming over skin, bodies pressed together, for what could have been minutes or hours. Every time his hands pass over my ribs, so close to my breasts I can feel their heat, I tremble and I arch toward him. And every time I gasp, or move, he backs off. If we're going to move forward, I'll have to be the one to do it.

Gryffindor courage.

_How did I get here? _

I cup his face as I slow the kiss down, but do my best to keep it deep. To not let this fire die. I let my hands drift down his shoulders, down his stomach, toward the bulge I feel pressed against me.

He growls into my mouth as my fingers trail down his belly, but just before I reach him, he spins me around, startling me, and we fall onto his bed, me caged in his arms.

A laugh escapes my lips and I know my eyes are wide and smiling as I look up at him. I'm pinned against his soft comforter-a navy blue instead of the Slytherin green I'd expected the first time I'd been in his room-with his arms on either side of my head. I lean my cheek against his arm-the one with the Dark Mark-and I pull his face down to mine, rolling so that we are both lying on our sides, facing one another.

"I need to tell you something," he says into my lips as he scoots his body closer to mine. We're pressed together, but I want to be closer. His hands on my back and waist are warm and firm as he holds me. I trail my fingertips up into his soft hair as our breath mingles.

"What is it?" I whisper as I gently rake my fingernails through his hair. He groans and pulls me closer, whatever he wanted to say forgotten for the moment. It feels so good, having his long, lean frame pressed against me. So warm and safe.

He moves away from my mouth and kisses just below my ear and down my neck. I hear myself moan as I clenched and unclenched my thighs. Again we roll, his arms caging me in, his chest pressed to mine.

I want him to take his shirt off, to hold me where I can feel his skin. His hands sink into the mattress on either side of my face, and suddenly I know why he isn't moving forward. His Mark. He doesn't want me to see it.

I turn just enough to grip his wrist and his head springs up in alarm. His pale cheeks are tinged pink and his hair is disheveled in a way that makes me ache for him. I slowly press us up, my hand on his chest so he'll follow, so that we're sitting. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it.

I sit across from him, legs crossed, knees pressed to his. He didn't want to pressure me to _be_ with him, and I can't pressure him to show me this. He has to want it, too. I let his wrist slip through my fingers so that I'm holding onto his fingertips.

"Can I see this?" I let my fingertips touch his left forearm, still covered by his shirt. "Please?" I whisper into the heated air between us.

_How did I get here? How did you?_

"Hermione," his voice cracks and I see fear and sadness in his eyes.

I lift his left palm to my lips and press a kiss there. Turn his hand over and kiss the back of it.

"Please," I whisper against his skin. I feel him shudder. "I want to see. To see _all _of you."

His jaw clenches, the fear never leaving his eyes, and he nods. My heart skips all around.

I scoot a bit closer and turn his arm over, palm up. Another kiss there before I slowly roll the sleeve of his tee-shirt up to met his elbow.

And there it is. Faded now that Voldemort is dead, but there all the same. His Dark Mark. Forced on him at the age of 16.

It looks old, like a tattoo gotten decades ago instead of one given only two years before. I trail gentle fingers up his arm from his wrist to his elbow, and back, touching the Mark and trying to differentiate between ink and skin. He shivers. The tattoo is raised, scarred, and my fingers bump over the ridges. I glanced to his face and his jaw is so tight I worry he might crack a tooth. His other hand is held in a fist and his breaths are shallow and short.

He won't meet my eyes. I release his hand and his eyes shoot to mine, fear thick in the air. Quickly, I roll my own sleeve up. There, in stark white, scarred letters, is the word MUDBLOOD in Bellatrix's jagged, hateful script. He'd never let me see his arm, and I'd never let him see mine.

He groans and looks away. I pick up his right hand and place it over my scar. His hands are always so warm. It's like a balm.

"Draco-" he won't look at me. "Does this scar define who I am?"

His eyes spring to mine and I think I might see tears there, swimming just in the corners. "No." His voice is gruff. "No. And I'm so sorry-"

I cut him off with a quick press of my lips to his. "It doesn't. Just like-" I pull his arm out again and cover his Mark with my hand, "_this _scar doesn't define who _you _are." I bring my lips to his wrist and trail soft kisses over it, down to his elbow, and back.

When I look back up, two tears trail slowly down his cheeks and something in my heart flutters.

His hands don't shake as he reaches for my face. His lips are warm and soft as he presses them to mine. I feel something in me release when I realize I haven't pushed things too far.

"I love you," he says softly against my lips, and my heart stutters. It feels like some missing piece has just clicked into place. My arms and legs feel wobbly and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. "It's what I wanted to say before. What I needed to tell you." He presses his lips against mine again and weaves his fingers with mine. "I love you."

My heart hammers against my ribs and I feel tears well up in my eyes in a way I know won't be attractive.

_I love you. _

I want to scream it back.

_I love you. _

"And it's OK if you're not there yet, just don't freak out." Another kiss to my lips, this one more hesitant.

_I love you!_

His eyes meet mine, full of love and warmth and fear that he's, again, pushed too far.

"I love you, too." It's a whisper, but saying it feels like sinking into a warm bath. I press my lips against his again. I feel a laugh bubble up and I give in and let it out. I lean back and grab his face, wondering how I ever saw those eyes as cold, wondering how I ever fell for his angry, hateful facade.

"I love you," I say again as I hold his cheeks and the smile on his face says more than words ever could.

"You love me?" he whispers. Then he laughs too, falling toward the bed, pulling me with him. "You love me!"

I find myself laughing along with him as he holds me and rolls around, the picture of childlike joy.

"This isn't exactly where I saw our evening going," I say with a laugh when he finally stops rolling us. He pulls me against him, tucking my hand against his stomach as I tuck my head into his shoulder.

"And where did you see it going?" he asks, the smile still in his voice. I would do anything to make him smile that way for as long as he'd let me. He hadn't enough opportunities to smile in his life. It was his turn to be happy.

"Well, to be blunt-" I sit up enough to meet his eyes. "I thought we would, you know…"

"No, Hermione Granger, I do not know." His eyes are laughing even as he keeps the laugh from his lips.

I tuck hair behind my ear, shocked at how tangled and wild it is from our earlier kissing. "_You know_," I say, heat rising in my cheeks. He laughs and shakes his head, his eye sparkling.

Gryffindor courage.

"I thought," I say, inching up just enough to press my nose to his, "we were going to shag."

His hands on my waist spasm as his eyes go wide.

"Did you now?" His voice is suddenly low and and I feel the rumble of it in my chest, as heat pools in my low belly.

I nod, brushing my nose against his.

His eyes are wide. He clears his throat and says, "Well-"

A loud knocking on the door interrupts us and I jump. Draco's head falls back heavy on his pillow and he covers his face with his hand.

"Oi! I said, _you can come back out now!_" It was Neville. How long had he been knocking on the door? The silencing charm must have worn off.

I jump off the bed and stride to the door, muttering a quick _alohomora_ before swinging it open. Neville's hand was poised to knock again, but he stops and stares at me, eyes wide.

I wonder what I looked like-hair wild, lips swollen, clothes disheveled. I see him swallow and I put my hands on my hips.

"What do you need, Neville?" Even to my own ears, I sound like myself as a first year-bossy and ready to take on the world.

"Erm. You don't have to stay in there anymore. We're all leaving the common room." He swallows again and looks past me to where Draco lays on the bed, face still covered by his large, warm hands.

"We _want _to stay in here. So, if you don't mind," I give him a little wave before closing the door forcefully in his face.

"Told you, mate!" came Blaise's voice from the common room, followed by a laugh and a groan.

I silence and lock the room again, then turn to Draco, who is lying on the bed, a pillow over his lap, peeking from behind the hands covering his face, and I laugh.

He sits up, and stare at me, and I laugh harder. His indignation morphs into playfulness and suddenly pillows are flying from his bed and hitting me over and over.

I screech and duck, then dive for the bed where I grab him and shield my body with his. The pillows fall all around us and he leans up over me, Dark Mark showing, hair askew.

I blow a strand of hair from my face and sigh, which quickly turns into a yawn. It's late.

He leans down to kiss me, softly, then rolls so that he's cradling me against his side again.

"Stay with me tonight?" he asks, pressing a kiss to my nose and forehead. I smile into him and nod.

_I could stay, just like this, forever._

* * *

**December 2nd, 1998**  
**Just Past Midnight**  
**Draco's Room**

I wake up in the middle of the night, Draco's arm draped across my middle, moonlight shining in to land just across his face. Blaise had, in fact, stayed with Neville, and the room was quiet and warm. I gently trail my fingers over his arm, sleeve still rolled up to his elbow, exposing his Mark in an innocent way that makes my heart ache.

Draco had told me he loved me. I'd known for a while that I loved him, though I hadn't given those feelings words, even in my brain. And now he was holding me. In bed. In _his _bed.

_How did I come to this wonderful place?_

I sink into his side, bury my face into his chest, and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me. But I don't feel tired. I think back on our conversation-I'd told him I wanted to _shag him_. My face heats and I look up at his face again-mouth slightly slack in the relaxation of sleep. I brush a strand of hair off his forehead and he turns toward me, his breath ghosting over my hand.

I feel heat stir in my lower belly and suddenly I want him to be very much awake. I know why he's holding back, why he's hesitant. I'd shared so much of my life before this with him.

Ron and I were together for months after the battle. He'd kissed me during the battle, and after, things had moved fast. Really fast. Whenever we were alone, he couldn't keep his hands off me. It wasn't like with Draco-a give and take, reading what the other needed. It was frenzied and manic. A week after the battle, alone in my brand new flat, we'd had sex for the first time. It was painful and quick. After that, it was almost nightly that he came to my flat and wanted sex. At first, I tried to roll with it. It was what new, young couples did, after all. But after only a few weeks, I couldn't deny that I wasn't enjoying it. I felt used and angry. And when I started backing off, things started to fall apart.

But things were different with Draco. He'd never once pushed me past my point of comfort. We snogged a lot, but I never felt like that's why he was with me. We'd snog. He'd make a joke. We'd talk. And while I loved every moment-the talking, the kissing, the jokes, sharing each our histories and arguing over books-n this moment, I found myself getting frustrated that we weren't _together, _yet.

When Draco kissed me, when he touched me, it was as if he were afraid at any moment I might run away or fall apart. I knew he wanted to touch me. I could feel it when we kissed, when his hands barely drifted over my chest or over my bum. But he always pulled back and slowed things down to protect me. He was so worried I would wake up one day and decide not to be with him.

Draco took the time, regularly, to apologize. In Potions, while learning to brew Dreamless Sleep, I made an offhand comment about using the potion we were stirring for nightmares. As soon as class was over, he pulled me aside and rubbed my hands and apologized for not saving me when Bellatrix was torturing me, knowing I woke from that nightmare most often. He'd cried, where anyone might see, and then held me, shivering, while I rubbed his back and told him it was OK. When we went for our first walk down to visit Hagrid-who was more accepting of Draco than I thought he'd be-and we passed the spot where I'd punched him and broken his nose, he'd stopped and let his hands trail down my face. He'd kissed my forehead and told me how sorry he was for calling me names for so many years. He'd kissed my eyes and hugged me and I'd forgiven him. Once while sitting, reading on our common room couch, he stopped an told me he regretted every slur he'd every slung at me. While eating in the Great Hall, he told me he hated how he'd taunted me for years, how he wished he could take it all back.

And when I told him what happened with Ron-I'd never told anyone but him-he'd gotten angry with Ron, had said some horrible things about him, then he'd held me and apologized for him. He apologized that he hadn't been there to help me then.

He'd apologized for so many things, so many times, and every time it just made me want him that much more.

I stare up at his face as he shifts in his sleep and his hair falls in a lazy wave over one eye again. I shift slightly and push it back, letting my hand linger on his face. He stirs slightly and I scoot up and kiss the corner of his mouth.

His eyes blink open as he looks at me, smiling, groggy with sleep. "Everything OK?" he asks, stretching his lean muscles against me in a way that makes my lower belly heat.

"No," I say.

He tenses beside me and looks down at his lap before looking to me. His face grows red. "Did I-" he stutters. "In my sleep, did I touch you, or-" he slaps his hands over his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

I laugh lightly and lean up so that my hair falls over my shoulder, next to his face. "No, that's not the problem," I put my hand on his chest and gently pick at the cotton of his tee shirt. "The problem is that you _didn't_."

His hand flies off his eyes and he stares up at me. "What?"

"I love you." I lean down and kiss his shirt clad shoulder. "And I'm in your bed. And you haven't so much as even tried to-"

He cuts me off as he rolls over and presses his lips against mine. I open my mouth to him and sigh as his weight lands on me, his tongue insistent as it strokes mine. I let my arms encircle his chest and scratch his back lightly, enjoying the way his body rolls against me.

He releases my mouth just long enough to trail wet kisses down my neck. I wrap my legs, still in yoga pants, around his waist and he groans into the soft flesh beneath his mouth, vibrating the skin there. He's pressed against me and I can feel how hard he is. I tighten my legs more

He slows then, kissing my neck softly. His hands had travel up my shirt and rest just below my breasts, stroking the skin on my stomach.

"I won't break, Draco," I say, pulling his face up to mine. "I want this." I wrap my arms around his neck. "I want _you._"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured. I want you to know that I want _all _of you. Always."

"I do know that," I say, shocked that I believe it so fully. "Please, Draco?" I ask, and his head pops up, his eyes dark.

"You're making this very hard to say no to," he says, his voice deep with desire as he absently bucks against me.

"Then don't say no," I whisper, pulling him in to kiss me again.

He kisses me with renewed passion. This kiss is slow and deep and makes me burn from the inside out. He pulls me up and peels my thin sweater away. I take his tee-shirt off and kiss his Mark. He kisses my scars, one letter at a time.

Having to roll yoga pants down my hips while still laying down is more awkward. I blow hair out of my face after the exertion and he laughs as I reach for his pajama pants. He helps me, his boxers going with them, and for the first time I see him-all of him-standing on his knees, fully exposed. I blush. He's beautiful. All muscles and scars and pale skin stretched over taut muscles.

"Can I see you too?" he asks. Shyly I slip off the bed and peel my grey sports bra off, followed by my black underwear. I stand in the moonlight, fighting the urge to cover myself. I'd been naked with Ron plenty of times, but never like this. Never with him looking at me like Draco was now.

Draco, naked, breathing heavily, kneeling on the bed before me like a Greek god.

"You're so beautiful," he says, his eyes trailing over me. He opens his arms and I eagerly rejoin him, letting him wrap me in his warm, strong embrace. He starts kissing me again, holding me against his chest. He kisses me slowly, his body against me warm, his arms wrapped around my body, his fingers drawing little circles on my back and sides.

I let my hand drift lower, trailing over his tight abs, until it find his hard length. He gasps as I wrap my fingers around him just for a moment, feeling the hot, smooth skin twitch at my touch.

Gently, he rolls me onto my back, my hand moving back to his belly, around to his back. His hand ghosts over my breast, barely touching my pebbled nipples. I gasp with the contact as his hand moves lower. He lets his warm palm cover me, his fingers barely brushing my opening. I wiggle and arch toward him, a little groan escaping my lips.

"Are you _sure?_" he whispers,.

"Yes." I buck again, and he kisses me, his tongue swirling around mine.

I feel his fingers open me gently. One long finger trails along my opening before gently entering me. I moan into his mouth. He moves in and out for moment and already I feel that pleasant heat build in my belly. He turns his hand then, curls his finger, and my hips come off the bed as he hits a spot I'd only ever read about.

He smiles as he continues to kiss me and gently inserts a second finger before his thumb starts to rub circles against my nub. I press back against his hand, wanting _more _of him. I feel my climax building already, the anticipation of wanting him so long intensifying everything. I moan and he moves his kisses from my mouth down my chest, taking one breast in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it before releasing it and moving to the other. I buck against his hand and he starts moving faster.

"Draco," I whimper as his kisses trail along my shoulder. With his fingers still inside me, his thumb still pressed against me, I roll to my side, gasping at the new angle as his ministrations grow more heated. I try to find words as heat builds and builds in my belly. Before I reach my climax, I put my hand on his to stop him. I'm panting as I pull his hand away and press my belly to his.

"Please," I kiss him, feeling his erection against my belly. "I want _you._"

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispers as he rolls his hips against me, clearly wanting this as much as me.

"I'm not-" He knows about my history with Ron, so why would he think-.

"I know." He kisses my nose, his hands rub my back. "But this is something you can't take back. If you decide this was a mistake-"

I kiss him again, getting frustrated even as his need to protect my feelings heals something in my heart that Ron broke.

"_I love you._" I deepen the kiss, draping one leg over his hip, making his breathing speed up. "I want to do this because _I love you._ I won't regret it, because _I love you._" With my leg, I drag him closer to me. "Please."

He groans and rolls us so that he's over me, his arms on either side of face. I open my knees and let him lay between them. With all of his weight on me. he holds my face in his hands, brushing back curls as he stares down at me with wide, silvery eyes.

"I've wanted this," he says, brushing my hair back over and over, "wanted you, for _so _long." He kisses me again and I feel the tip of him at my entrance.

I wrap my arms around his neck and press my forehead to his as I slowly move my hips to slip him inside me. Even now, he's making sure it's my choice.

_How did we get here?_

_I love you._

We gasp together until he's completely inside me, filling me up.

We stay there for a moment, eyes closed, breathing labored. I feel his heartbeat in his chest. I hear his breath, feel it across my face. His muscles tremble.

And then, he starts to move, and it's like fireworks behind my eyelids.

It's slow at first, and from the first moment I feel that wave of pleasure I'd abandoned start to build. He moves against me, pressing into me in a way that makes my skin tingle.

"More," I say, my voice gruff, and he groans as he bites my shoulder and begins to move faster. "Oh!" Every stroke makes me feel like a fire is being stoked in my belly and all I want is is _more._

_I love you._

"Hermione." His voice in my ear is gruff as he moves and I shiver. "Tell me when-" He growls as I gasp when I tilt my hips and that most glorious spot is hit again. "When you're close."

I grip his shoulders, digging my nails in, as he speeds up. I lean forward, bite his shoulder, and his growl vibrates through me, sending shivers down to my toes. That heat in my belly is growing brighter.

He grabs my leg and bends my knee, holding it in his arm against his hip, and I feel a scream rip from my throat. Never have I felt anything like this. So raw and intimate and _good_.

_How do I stay here for as long as I can?_

"I'm close," I whisper when the scream leaves my lips, gripping his hair with tense fingers. "So...so close. Draco." He starts to move faster. Harder. It's building, almost unbearable, and then, it's like falling over a cliff. I scream once, and then my breath is gone, and I'm soaring, floating, my limbs locked around him like he's a life preserver and I'm in the middle of the ocean in a storm.

I feel him move into me three more times, hard, before he growls and bites down on the tender skin where my neck meets my shoulder, body tensing. After a moment, his muscles loosen as he relaxes against me.

We lay, sweaty and panting, tangled together. I stare at the ceiling, a smile on my face, as his hands gently rub down my arms.

He leans back after a moment and kisses my forehead. I smile up at him and his eyes go wide.

"Contraceptive spell! We forgot-"

I kiss him and pull him back to me. "I cast one as soon as we came in here tonight." I grin against his mouth. "They last 12 hours."

He stares at me and smiles, then laughs. "So brave, my little lioness. If I'd known that when we came in, I wouldn't have waited so long to do to his."

"Then next time," I say, kissing the corner of his mouth and causing it to turn up into his signature smirk, "I'll tell you."

_How did I get here? _

With a small grown he pulls out of me and I roll so that he's lying behind me, arms around my middle. I smile into my pillow as he kisses my sweaty neck before exhaustion overtakes us and we fall asleep.


	4. Part 4

**Nearly done! This is a 5-part fic, but I may have to throw in a little 6th bonus chapter that's not necessary for the plot, but so far is fun to write. Don't know if I'll post that part yet. I'm very indecisive. Anyway. I hope you're enjoying it! I enjoyed writing it. Please review if you read! 3**

* * *

**December 15th, 1998  
****The Winter Ball**

I waited for The Hogwarts Express with sweaty hands and a racing heart. We were having another dance, a ball, and students who'd chosen not to come back for their eighth year were invited. Another attempt at bridging the gap between houses and children damaged by war.

Harry and Ron were coming. I think part of the reason Harry was coming was to win back Ginny, but I couldn't be Ron-I didn't know why he was coming. Harry and I had written back and forth since the start of term. I'd told him I was seeing someone, but not who, and that I was very serious about him. Draco knew I' hadn't told him, and I knew it hurt him, but he understood. I hadn't spoken to Ron once.

I shifted from foot to foot, feeling despair settle in my stomach like lead. I'd asked Draco to stay at the castle so I could tell them about us on my own. He had scowled at me, then his face had fallen and he'd gripped me to him, his heart racing.

"I don't want to lose you," he'd said into my hair, loosening his grip slightly so I could breathe.

"I'm not going anywhere," I'd said into his neck, and he nodded.

Now, standing here alone, I wondered what was wrong with me? Why did I make him stay up there all alone? Wondering. Waiting. I put myself in his shoes and cringed. If he'd come here alone to meet Pansy, I would have been going crazy, imagining all sorts of horrible things.

Pansy. Just her name made my stomach plummet. Would she be here today? Would Draco want to see her? They'd been together, and without the war, they might still be. The thought made ice settle in my stomach.

I can hear the train was approaching and I start to fidget. I should have brought Draco with me. I should have told him I wanted to face this, and the world, together, always, but-

"Hermione." I spin around. Draco's standing, in the shadows, hands in his pockets, a guilty look on his face. "Hey."

I waste no time. I rush to him and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss and I feel him relax.

"I'm so sorry I asked you not to come with me," I breathe against his lips and he laughs.

"I'm so sorry I don't follow directions well." I feel his smirk and gave him one of my own, bumping my nose against his.

"It's why I've always done better in classes," I say and he pinches my side.

We stand for a moment, drinking in the comfort the other offers, before I lean back to look up at him. The wind is whipping his hair around and I try to tuck it back behind his ear.

"I can't guarantee they won't hex you on the spot," I say, nervousness slowly kicking back in.

"I'll take my chances." He shrugs, and I tuck my forehead against his throat and nod.

"All right then. Let's go."

We wait, holding hands, as the train rolls to a stop Only a few people are on it, so we wait, off to the side, as our ex-classmates exit. I see Harry first, his dark hair still a mess, followed by Ron. I almost call out, until Ron smiles and helped someone off after him. Dark, chin-length hair. A look of superiority on her haughty features. Beautiful.

"Pansy?" I hear Draco whisper, and my heart starts to hammer painfully in my throat. Not because she's holding Ron's arm, but because of the way he names rolls off of Draco's tongue.

Harry spots me and waves, his eyes darting to Draco's hand attached to mine. He sighs, but keeps a small smile on his face.

_He already knew?_

They walks over, Ron's arm around Pansy's shoulders, his face alight with something manic and a bit frightening.

"'Mione," Harry says with a smile. I squeeze Draco's hand before letting go and hugging my oldest friend. My brother. The only family I have left.

"Harry." I lay my cheek on his shoulder. "I've missed you."

"Me too." He squeezes me again and lets go.

"Ronald," I say as I nod, not ready to hug him yet after our break up and subsequent radio silence. "Pansy," I say, my voice less sure, but I nod all the same. "It's good to see you both."

I step back to Draco, who immediately takes my hand and strokes his thumb over my knuckles, calming my nerves a tiny bit.

We all stand silently for a moment.

"It's really good to see you, Draco," Pansy says from beneath Ron's possessive arm. I feel my heart thud dully as I fight the urge to stand between them, even though they're feet apart.

"You too, Pans," he says with a nod, his voice nonchalant.

"So," Harry says, very much the fifth wheel. "This." He gestures to our joined hands without any anger in his eyes. "This is a real thing?"

I nod, vehemently, and step closer to him. "Did Neville tell you?"

Harry's eyes dart to Draco for a half second, but then he turns back to me. "Ginny," Harry supplies, sheepishly. "She threatened us if we did anything rude." He shrugs and looks at Draco and I feel my stomach clench. "S'good to see you, Malfoy."

"You too, Potter." Draco's voice is cool and calm-the epitome of the mask he'd worn every day I'd known him until this year, but without the animosity.

"So, Neville knows?" Harry asks, and I laugh. I can't help it. This is going so much more smoothly than I thought it would.

"We weren't keeping it a secret, for heaven's sake." I smile and keep my eyes from going to Ron, but I can feel his glare burning into my face.

"But you didn't tell me," Harry says, his green eye sad as he leans forward slightly. Draco's hand tightens in mine and a fresh wave of guilt consumes me. We're talking as if Ron and Pansy aren't even here, and I'm all right with that.

"I was afraid you wouldn't understand." I let go of Draco's hand only to slip my around his waist, gripping the cotton of his navy tee shirt in my fingers lightly. "I wanted to figure this out before it was challenged."

"And have you?" Harry's eyes dart between my face and Draco's, and I feel Draco's arm around my shoulders tighten. He's nervous.

_I love him._

"I love him," I surprise myself by saying confidently. I look up at Draco to find him already looking down at me, smiling, but surprised.

"I love her, too," he says, still looking at me. Then he looks up Harry. "More than anything."

Ron makes a noise, disbelieving and rude, and my head shoots around to catch his gaze.

"Something to say, Ronald?" I dig my fingers into Draco's side as if I could protect him from Ron's hatefulness just by keeping him pressed against me.

"No. Nothing." He looks down at Pansy, who is staring at Draco, shock written across her face.

"Pansy." She looks up him, startled. "You said you needed to do some shopping before the dance, yeah?" Ron is smiling, but I know him. It's not real. I look between Pansy and him. I don't know her well, but I do know him. None of this is real. It was all for show. I feel sick.

She look up at him for a long moment,, still no smile, and finally nods.

"We'll see you lot later then." Ron glares at Draco before walking away, Pansy held tight against his side.

"That could have gone worse," Harry says with a sigh, breaking the tension.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as anger seethes behind my closed eyes.

"How about a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks before we head back?" Draco asks, looking at Harry.

Harry sizes him up for a moment before nodding. "That sounds like a great idea."

* * *

It is awkward at first, especially when I excuse myself to go to the restroom and kiss Draco as I leave. It's a natural motion, having been repeated countless times over the last month and a half, but Harry tenses and I roll my eyes. When I get back from the restroom, they're talking, each holding their bottles of butterbeer as if they were lifelines, shoulders tense.

"Don't the Holyhead Harpies play the Chudley Cannons soon?" I ask, sipping my own butterbeer and wiping the foam off of my upper lip with a napkin.

"Next weekend," Harry says, sipping his own drink.

"The Harpies are going to wipe the pitch with the Cannons," Draco says. He knows me well enough to know that I'm trying to open the door for them to walk through.

Harry's eyes pop up. "Yeah. They're a much better team."

"I thought you were a Cannons fan, Potter," Draco says, the tension in his shoulders lessening.

"Nah, that's Ron. I like the Harpies."

"Doesn't Ginny also like the Harpies?" I ask, and Harry drops his forehead to the table with a grown.

"What's going on there, Potter? I thought you two were practically married already," Draco says, his tone light as he waves Madame Rosemerta over for another round.

"I didn't want to come back to Hogwarts. She had to come back. So we're sort of taking a break." He finishes off the amber liquid in his glass and happily accepts the new one.

"That's tough luck, mate," Draco says, nodding in sympathy. "These Gryffindor ladies are tough nuts to crack."

"Hey!" I say, elbowing him. He grins and pulls me against him, nuzzling my cheek.

"I'm only being honest." He tucks me under his arm and I lean back into him. "You're opinionated, bossy, stubborn, brilliant, and beautiful. As is the Weaslette, from what I gather."

"Did you just call me opinionated, bossy, _and _stubborn?" I crane my neck to look at him.

"And _brilliant_ and _beautiful._" He grins down at me and kisses my nose. "All reasons to love you." He says, kissing my nose again.

I laugh and elbow him in the gut. Harry clears his throat, and I turn back to him, cheeks red.

"Sorry," I say, sipping my butterbeer to cool off.

"I'm not," Draco says, grinning cheekily. I elbow him again.

"It's fine," Harry says, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "It's nice to see you like this, 'Mione." He looks at Draco and smirks. "Even with a git like this."

* * *

The Hogwarts alumni are given a spare set of rooms to get ready for the ball. In the eighth year dorms, I slip into my dress-a light, shimmery green that reminds me of mint ice cream-and try to tame my hair. Anytime I'd worn it up over the last few weeks, Draco had pulled it down so he could get his fingers into it, so I use a few potions and charms to tame it into long, soft curls down my back. I put on makeup, but not much. I've never been great at makeup, and just know if I try to do _real _makeup, I'll end up looking like a clown.

I am to meet Draco in the common room in five minutes. Never have I been so nervous. My dress brushes the floor in silky waves. It's fitted to my body in a way that makes me a little uncomfortable, but only because I've never worn anything so grown up in my life. There is a slit up to the knee that shows my leg when I walk. It flares slightly at my waist, so the skirt can move with me, but from the waist up it hugs me like a second skin. The straps are a few inches wide, and hug my upper body in a way that gives me a chest I didn't think I had. My cheeks are pink from blushing, and even though I know there will be much prettier girls there with much more experience making themselves over, I feel truly lovely for the first time since the Yule Ball.

I tuck my wand into a tiny pocket on my hip-a dress with pockets cannot be beat-and leave my room with a deep, calming breath.

I walk out into the common room and see him, back turned, and my heart jumps as panicked thoughts swarm my mind. Would he like my dress? Would he think I was too plain? What would Pansy be wearing? Would he wish I looked more like her? Would he be disappointed in me?

_How did I get here?_

I steel my resolve, gathering my Gryffindor courage, and a deep breath as I approach him. Just before I touch his arm he turns toward him, eyes going wide.

I stop, a blush creeping across my exposed shoulders. I do a little spin, like the girls in movies do, and have to fight the urge to curtsy. _What is wrong with me? _Draco looks so handsome in his suit-like dress robes. He wears a white button down with a minty green tie-he'd insisted we match-and silver cufflinks with dragons on them in the sleeves of his black robes jacket.

"You're so beautiful."

My eyes shoot up to his as he gazes down at me. I'd considered wearing heels, but knew I wouldn't be able to walk well, let alone dance, so I'd settled on some silver ballet flats.

"And you look very handsome," I says, my voice quiet. He takes a step toward me and tilts my chin up with one of his long, pianist fingers.

"You look just as beautiful as you do _every single day._"

My blush deepened and he smirks. When did that expression, one I'd always hated, turn into something I loved?

_Kiss me._

He leans down and presses his warm lips to mine. I feel warmth spread through my fingers and toes.

He leans back then and stares down at me, his expression guarded and the warmth dissipates.

"I have something to tell you," he says, rubbing his hands down my exposed arms. "And I'm not sure how you'll react." He stops stroking my arms and presses his thumbs into my upper arms lightly.

"OK." Does it have to do with Pansy? With my dress? Does he not want to go to the ball? I feel my heart in my throat, and suddenly, I just want things to go back to the way they were this morning, before other people intruded and complicated the thoughts in my brain.

"Potter knew about us before Weaslette told him." He's staring down at me, his brows drawn together. "You told me you wanted to wait, but-" He lets go of me to brush his hair off his forehead, letting it slip through his fingers as he pushes it back. "I just couldn't. I knew if he didn't approve, things with us would be so much harder. And I knew you didn't want the pressure of telling him hanging over us when things were so new, but-" He comes back to me, holding my arms, his face pleading. "I wrote him. The day you told me you were going to tell him you were seeing someone, but not who. I wrote him an hour later and told him it was me."

I feel my mouth open in shock and he grimaces.

"I copied all my letters so you could read them, and kept all of his. I just-" he sighs and presses his forehead and nose to mine. "I just needed to know that if things went the way I wanted, if you wanted me as badly as I wanted you, that the most important person in your life would accept it."

My breath is shallow and I feel lightheaded. I feel tears prick the corners of my eyes and is face starts to crumple.

"Letters?" I ask as a smile stretches the corners of my mouth. Draco looks confused. "As in, more than one?"

"Oh. Yeah," he pulls back and I stop him by wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down.

"I'd like to read those, I think," I say, smiling. His face lights up, and I reach up to brush his fallen bangs back.

"Yeah?" he asks, and when I nod, he smirks. "Curious to see what I have to say about you, Granger?"

I laugh and kiss the corner of his mouth that's lifted. "Desperately curious."

He gives me a small laugh before pulling back and offering me his hand. "Ready to go?" I slip my hand into his much larger one and grin.

"More than ready."

* * *

The Great Hall is covered in silver and gold. It's beautiful. The stars that twinkle overhead are charmed to sparkle like diamonds. The Christmas trees are covered in twinkling gold and silver stars, while all around bubbles, charmed not to pop, float and reflect the twinkling lights.

Draco leads me by the hand to a table where Blaise already sit with Ginny, Luna, and Theo. After the Halloween dance, we'd all started spending more time together, eating in the Great Hall together, with Neville and Hannah, more often than not. I wonder what Harry would do when he saw Ginny on Blaise's arm.

"What a knockout," Blaise says, rising from his seat to bow to me with a wink. Ginny doesn't seem to notice his attention to me as she looks all around, clearly nervous. Draco, however, isn't too happy about it and steps between us, using the pretense of holding out my chair.

"If you don't quit ogling my witch, Zabini, I'll knock _you _out," Draco growls, and I giggle as he sits beside me. "Besides, what would _your_ girl say?" He nods toward Ginny, who turns to stare daggers at him.

"I'm no one's girl," she says, gritting her teeth. She looks lovely in a teal strapless dress that stops just above her knees, complemented with gold, strappy sandals that wind their way up her calves. and a lovely updo of curls and braids.

Blaise holds up his hands and smiles. "But we'll fix that right up, won't we Gin?" He grins and then spots something over my head. He quickly sits and puts his arm around Ginny's shoulders. "Incoming, darling."

I turn and find Ron, Pansy, and Harry walking toward us. Harry is wearing plain, black robes, hands in his pockets, desperate, sad eyes on Ginny. Ron is wearing something new-traditional wizard robes, all in black, with silver threads along the seams. Pansy's dress matches-skin tight, cut so low the V was halfway to her belly button, and tied behind her neck and cut down to her waist in the back. The front stops just above her knees, but the back flares out in a long train toward the ground. Her hair is glamoured long and she wears in a tumbling curtain of black curls over one shoulder. I suddenly felt underdressed, my own curls feeling frizzy and and wild. I glance to Draco, wanting to see his reaction to the beautiful girl in front of us, and he's already watching me, a smile on his face.

"Room for a few more?" Harry asks after clearing his throat. His eyes never leave Ginny, who's watching something in the opposite direction. Blaise sits there, arm around her shoulder nonchalantly.

"Potter!" he says with a smile. "Always room for a few more." He's watching Harry closely, a shrewd look in his eyes I'd only ever seen while he was playing wizards chess with Draco.

Pansy steps around Harry, letting go of Ron's arm. "Blaise, aren't you going to say hello?"

His confident grin falters when he sees her.

"Pansy?" he asks, his arm dropping away from Ginny's shoulders. He jumps up and crosses to her, picking her up by the waist and spinning her once, the silver tail of her dress swinging outward along with her silky curls.. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" He smiles as he sits her down. I'm shocked to see her smiling up at him almost shyly with a bit of a blush along her nose.

"It was a surprise." She looks over her shoulder then, her dark lined eyes landing on Draco, her red lips curling up in a different kind of smile-one that doesn't reach her eyes.

I watch as Blaise's face falls for a fraction of a moment before his confident, fake smile is back on his face.

"The whole gang, back together," he says, returning to Ginny's side. Ginny glares at Pansy before standing.

"Blaise, let's dance." She holds out her hand, and he takes it, still with that fake smile on his handsome face. She drags him away and I look to Draco, who looks just as confused as me.

"How long have they been-" Harry looks toward the dance floor where Blaise and Ginny have already disappeared. "You know?" Harry asks. He sits beside me and his green eyes are filled with sorrow.

"Oh, I don't think it's very serious," I says, patting his hand where it rests on the table.

"Hello Harry," Luna says from the other side of the table. Until then, she had been whispering something in Theo's ear and causing him to turn bright red. She and Theo were often like that-with us, but not really with us. Too busy being lost in whatever world they inhabited together to join the rest of us for more than short bursts. "Hello Ron. It's good to see you both." She gives the table her airy smile before standing and pulling Theo up with her. She wears a neon pink dress with limes sewn all over it and matching lime earrings. "Theodore and I are going to go dance, I think."

"Yep. Yes. Hello Potter, Weasley, Pans." He clears his throat and moved to loosen his collar around his neck, his face still red, as Luna slides up beside him and kisses his red cheek. "Hello. All right." With a wave, Luna pulls Theo away. I smile as I watch them.

There's a moment of silence as Harry finds Ginny and Blaise on the dance floor and watches them longingly. I avoid looking at anyone but Draco, as all of our friends that might have served as a buffer have left. Draco has the same idea, staring at our fingers, intertwined atop his knee.

When I muster the courage to look up, I find Ron staring at me, a hungry, angry look in his blue eyes. I glance to Pansy and see her staring at Draco, sadness etched into her features in a way that filled me guilt.

The silence at our table is deafening.  
"Dance with me?" Draco leans down to my ear and whispers, his breath causing me to shiver. I nod and we are up like a shot, moving away from the awkward silence and onto the dance floor. I spare a glance back to Harry, who seems to not even noticed we have left.

Just like the first time we ever danced, when we reach the floor the song shifts to a slow one. He pulls me to him and slips one arm around my waist as his other lifts my hand to rest on his shoulder. As the soft music wraps around us, I try to let the feeling of two sets of angry eyes on us roll off my shoulders, but I can't.

I feel the tension in Draco's shoulders as we dance and it dawns on me that maybe he'd rather be out with Pansy instead of me.

"What's wrong?" he asks me, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"Pansy looks really beautiful tonight," I say, keeping my voice low.

"_You_ look really beautiful tonight," he says, pulling me closer and resting his cheek on my head.

"I just mean," I snuggle into him, feeling traitorous tears well in my eyes, dislodging my hand from his so I can slip it around his waist. "I know that, had she been here this school year, we probably wouldn't be-"

"Is that what you think?" he asks softly, still holding his cheek against my hair. I hesitate before nodding. With a sigh, he kisses my forehead, then lays his cheek on my head again. "Hermione, Pansy and I dated in 5th year. A little in 6th. But that's it. We aren't in love. We aren't in any sort of relationship, nor do I want to be. We dated because she was my friend and my father thought she would make a good match, not because I wanted to be with her." He pulls back and looks at me, pushing a curl or two behind my ear. "I _want _to be with _you, _and only you." He leans down and kiss me chastely. "All right?" His voice is soft and I lean into the hand still cupping my cheek.

I smile and two traitorous tears slip down my cheeks. "All right."

_How did I get here?_

He brushes the two tears away with the pads of his thumbs and kisses me again. I pull him close, forgetting for a moment that we're in the middle of the Great Hall, being watched, and just let myself breathe him in..

When we pull away, he presses his forehead to mine, eyes still closed. "I wish we could just dance, without worries_._" He sighs again and opens his eyes. His expression is strained. "But if Weasley doesn't stop staring at us, I am going to lose my cool."

"Just don't let him get to you," I say. "If he says anything, just try to ignore him."

Draco's expression goes dark for a moment and he leans away to look over my head, his scowl darkening before he looks back to me. "You don't have to protect him," he says, quiet.

"I'm not," I say, lifting my hand to his cheek so he has to look right at me. "I'm protecting _us._" The song picks up and we turn, and suddenly I can see Ron staring at us as he holds Pansy close. When had they come onto the dance floor? Neither of them look happy and I look away. "I know Ron." I look into Draco's eyes. "He's stubborn and has a temper. If he can say or do something bad enough to ruin our night, he will. Because he's a giant toddler with no sense of manners."

Draco's hands on my back are tense, so I move my hands to his shoulders, laying my cheek right over his heart. I rub circles into his broad shoulders with my hands and slowly, the tension in his hands on my lower back loosens, and he returned the favor, trailing his long fingers over my shoulder blades and down my spine, the warmth of his hands seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. Under his ministrations, all of my tension slips away and is replaced by another feeling-one not at all proper for a public setting.

I press closer to Draco and inhale him. With my body pressed against his, I feel evidence that proves he's having similar thoughts. I lean up and look at his face, a smirk pulling up the corner of my mouth as I take in his large pupils and pink-tinted cheeks.

"We can always leave," I say, stepping up onto my toes to press my nose against his. His hands span my ribs to help me balance, and for the first time, I wish I'd worn heels so I could stand here and look into his eyes without having to stretch.

"And miss seeing you spin in that dress for a few more songs?" he asks, pressing his lips to my nose, his eyes gleaming. "Not a chance, Granger." After that, it's easier to ignore Ron's eyes shooting daggers into my back.

We dance for a few more songs, laughing, forgetting the unlikely pair that watches us. It's lovely and free.

Until it isn't.

Draco guides me back to our table where Blaise sits alone, a strange look on his face. I wonder if maybe Ginny has dumped him, but when I follow his line of sight, it's Pansy he's watching. I catch a glimpse of Harry, holding Ginny close as they dance, both with eyes closed tight.

Draco looks to Blaise, and then to me. My brow is furrowed and Draco kisses my cheek. "I'll get us something to eat." He kisses my cheek again and I squeeze his hand before he walks away.

"So," I say, turning back toward Blaise, following his gaze back to Pansy, who looked as miserable as Blaise. "You and Gin. What sort of arrangement is it?"

He sighs as he looks to me, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle. "She wanted someone to go to Hogsmeade with, dances with, to keep the other boys away. I wanted someone who didn't expect anything of me, who would help me forget-" he trails off.

"Forget Pansy?"

He turns dark eyes to me, panicked. "Did Draco-"

I pat his hand. "No. I just saw it all over your face when she got here." I smile and he drops his head into his hands.

"It's so stupid," he says. "She's always been in love with him. And not that I think anything will ever happen between them now that you're _finally in the picture-_"

"What do you mean, _finally in the picture?_" I ask, sitting forward, heart racing.

He looks at me and grimaces. "Maybe you should ask him about that."

I open my mouth, determined to make him tell me, when a shout erupts from the snack table.

"Stay away from her, you slimy git!"

_Ron. _I'm up and running before I can think about it.

Draco's standing, fists at his sides, two plates worth of snacks scattered at his feet. Ron is in front of him, face red, screaming.

"You stupid ferret, you have _no right _to be with her! After all you've done. _You are scum! _A Death Eater piece of garbage!"

"Ronald!" I scream, finally making it between them. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Don't," he says, getting in my face. "Don't scream at me when he's clearly bewitched you or drugged you or _something._" He grabs my arm and goes to pull me away and I try to jerk away, but his fingers dig in. "Let's just go talk. I'll help you out of whatever _this is! _Don't be _stupid_, Hermione!"

I jerk my arm away, feeling the beginnings of a bruise where his fingers had gripped. Shaking with fury, I step back. Draco is still standing, stock still, his hands in fists at his sides, trying to do what I asked and not react.

_How did we all get here?_

From somewhere behind Ron, the crowd-now thick with onlookers-parts and Harry and Ginny pop through. Pansy is off to the side, arms around her middle, staring at the whole scene looking anything but dignified. She looks horrified.

"You're going to _help _me?" I ask, my voice deadly quiet in the suddenly nearly-silent room. I take a step toward Ron and, to his credit, he shrinks back. I look up at him, eyes blazing. "I'm nothing but a stupid, stuck-up muggleborn with stupid Muggle parents_._ _Right?_"


	5. Part 5

**We've made it to the last chapter! I hope this conclusion is enjoyable for everyone! To everyone who's read this far, thank you! You're all amazing and wonderful.**

***Trigger warning: There's implication of abuse in this chapter. **

* * *

**July 31st, 1998  
Hermione's Flat  
Evening**

Ron's lips on mine are almost as insistent as his hands on my waist. His hands move up, groping my hips, my stomach, until he reaches my breasts where he grabs me roughly and groans as he pushes me back onto my couch.

"Ron!" I gasp, pushing him away with a final shove. He groans and rolls off me, pushing his bangs off his face as I stand and move toward the mirror, hands shaking. I'd been pushing, telling him to stop for minutes, and he'd acted like he couldn't hear me. I wasn't sure he would stop this time.

"It's Harry's birthday, Ronald." I try to pin my hair back. It had been halfway up when Ron came in from Auror training, and now it was just a tangled mess. I'd thought we'd leave almost immediately. That was twenty minutes ago.

He hadn't even said hello when he came in. He'd just grabbed me, started kissing my neck, trying to paw open my shirt, and hadn't stopped when I'd asked. When I'd nearly begged.

He'd been like this since our first kiss during the battle at Hogwarts-ravenous for attention. We'd been together three months, and anytime we were in the same room, he acted like a man dying of thirst until his lips were on mine. I'd thought it was sort of sweet, if suffocating, at first. But now, it made me feel dirty. I couldn't remember the last time we'd had a proper conversation.

"He'll understand, 'Mione," he says, sprawled on my couch, an irritated look on his face. I can see his erection tenting his pants and I look away, hoping he doesn't see me cringe.

The day after we left Hogwarts after the battle, I'd sprung for a little flat of my own. My parents' memories were being restored at St. Mungo's, but I couldn't live in their house without them, and the healers told me it would be a while. So I'd bought a flat, rather than renting one, still in the mindset of someone who wanted to know there was a safe space to go and hide if I needed. Though, the longer Ron was like this, the less this flat felt like a safe space for me. My hands tremble as I pin back the tangles he'd caused with his hands and aggression.

"It's his _birthday,_ Ron. We're his family. We can't just-"

"It's always about him, though, isn't it?" His voice drips with vitriol.

I spin around, and almost smack into his chest. When had he come up behind me? I push him back, my heart racing like it had every time Snatchers had gotten too close. He stumbles a little and I can breathe a little more easily.

"Are you being serious right now?" I clench my hands into fists at my sides. We'd had this fight before. After he came back to us on the horcrux hunt, I'd thought it was over. But now that we were together-finally, after years of waiting and wondering-his jealousy of my relationship with Harry had really gotten out of hand.

I look back at him and he looks at me with a sneer that makes my heart hurt. "Never mind. Let's just go."

He leaves my flat without a glance back. I take a few deep breaths, put on my ballet flats, grab my purse, and lock the door behind me.

We meet Harry and Ginny at a little deli down the street. It's a Muggle place, so Ron and Ginny keep glancing all around like tourists. I fight the urge to pat Ron's hand to help him calm down. I'm still angry. He can stew in his nerves for a bit.

"Happy birthday, Harry," I say, discreetly pulling a gift from my tiny beaded bag, still extended with an undetectable extension charm. His green eyes light up as he opens it-a cleaning kit for his new broom.

"Brilliant," he says, nudging his glasses higher on his nose.

"I know how you've missed flying," I say, patting his hand. Ron huffs in his seat and I pull my hand away.

"His broom'll need more than a good aerodynamic wax to keep up with me," Ginny says, nudging him playfully, and Harry reddens and gives her a small smile.

"Yes, well. We can't all be future Quidditch stars, Gin."

She beams at him and kisses his cheek. I look to Ron, anger forgotten for a moment, only to have it firmly replaced as he glares at me from his slumped position at the table. There's an awkward silence while Ron glares at me.

Harry clears his throat. "So, Ginny's off to Hogwarts in September. Ron and I are training. But you still haven't told us what you're gonna do, 'Mione," he says before taking a hearty bite of his turkey sandwich, getting mayo on his chin. Ginny's face goes blank as she wipes the mayonnaise off with her napkin and sits back.

I'd told her, of course, but we both worried Ron might not take it well.

"Well, I suppose I haven't." I sip my water, and pat my lips with my napkin. I meet Harry's eyes and take a breath. I smile and glance at Ron who leans forward, eager for the answer. He'd been asking me for weeks what I was going to do, and I'd kept telling him I wasn't sure. Even though I was. I hoped that by breaking the news here, in public, he wouldn't lose his head.

I take a deep breath and smile. "I'm going back to Hogwarts," I say, breathlessly. "I'm taking McGonnagall up on her offer and finishing up as an eighth year, so I can take my N.E.W.T.s."

"Oh," Harry says, glancing at Ron nervously, his eyes big, then over to Ginny who's expression is tight. "Oh, well, that's brilliant. Good for you, 'Mione." Harry swallows and gives me a small smile. "You and Gin can keep each other out of trouble." He forces a laugh. I appreciate the effort.

I look to Ginny, whose eyes are wide, take a breath, then look to Ron. He's staring down at his hands, his face a vibrant shade of beet red. Then he looks at me, and the look in his eyes makes me fight back my fight or flight reflex with everything I have. Months on the run had turned me into an act-first, ask-questions-later sort of witch.

"I think Hermione and I need to go somewhere to talk," he says, his voice quiet.

"Ron," Harry says, but Ron ignores him and stands, and for some reason, I do too. He nods at them, refuses to meet my gaze, and leaves.

"He just needs to let off some steam," I say nervously, draping my purse strap across my shoulder. "We'll talk soon."

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but Ginny won't meet my gaze. I turn on my heel and leave them, my sandwich untouched.

Ron waits for me outside the deli. I join him, and he takes off down the street, not bothering to shorten his long strides for me so I have to jog to keep up. It isn't until we are back at my flat, door shut, that he speaks, and the sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

"Why?" His voice is low, and he looks at me with a blank expression that makes me much more nervous than if he were angry and red.

"It's school," I say with a shrug. I take a step toward him with my hand outstretched. "I can't _not _go back."

"You don't _need _to go," he says, taking a step toward me. We're a foot apart now.

Part of me wants to close the gap. To take his face in my hands, to stare into his blue eyes, and find _my _Ron, who would know that of course I have to go back to Hogwarts. But the other part knows that I would be searching for something that may not be there anymore.

"You could have any job you wanted. Anywhere. Why go back there? We decided-"

"No, _you _decided. You and Harry decided _you _weren't going to go back. I didn't-"

"Just one more thing to hold over me? Is that it?" He takes another step toward me, and I recoil. He sees it and his expressions grows dark.

_Where was the goofy boy from my childhood? With dirt on his knows and eyes that sparkled?_

"What?" I whisper, confused.

"You've always been just that much better than me. Even though you're muggleborn, you got it all faster." He starts to pace, and I take another discreet step back toward the door. "Since the hunt, you've even had Harry on your side." He stops and glares at me. "And now, you'll have this. You'll have finished your education, and to what? Brag? Why could you _possibly _want to go back without us?" He never raises his voice, but I still feel my knees shake.

I stare at him, not sure where to start. Never before now had he brought up my blood status.

"Brag?" I ask, "Even though...even though I'm _muggleborn?_" Tears well up in my eyes.

"Don't play stupid," he hisses, closing the distance between us in a way that makes me rear back in fear. "You're always taking on charity cases. Spew-"

"S.P.E.W." I automatically correct him.

He throws up his hands and gets in my face. "And now, going back to school to prove just how _smart _you are." He glares down at me. "You're always trying to make up for the fact that your parents are nothing but stupid Muggles-"

I slap him then, tears blurring my vision, and he stumbles back. It's almost like the slap broke some kind of spell, because for a moment his eyes clear and I see the boy I loved when I was fourteen.

"You need to leave." Despite the tears drawing trails down my cheeks, my voice is steady. "We're...we're through."

"Through?" He's confused and his brow crumples as if he might cry. "With this fight, or-"

"No. _We _ are through. I can't do this. Ever since the horcrux hunt, you've been different. And this-" I motion between the two of us, "is _toxic_. It should be sweet and lovely. It should be everything that it's not." I blink tears away and face him. A red handprint blooms on his cheek, and I feel darkly satisfied to see tears in his eyes. "Please leave, Ronald."

I take the few steps toward the door and open it.

"Hermione." His voice is deep, pleading, but I point toward the hall, letting tears course down my cheeks.

He growls at me then, anger taking over in a heartbeat. That moment where I got to see my sweet, young Ronald was gone. He takes long strides toward me and grips my arms so hard a pained gasp leaves my lips.

Without a thought, he flies back. After losing our wands at Malfoy Manor, I'd been practicing wandless magic, and now my magic acted _for _me, protecting me in this moment from possible harm. Fight or flight.

_How did we get here?_

He lands on his bum in the hall, face red, and I will the door to close and lock. I hear his fists pounding, so I throw a silencing charm up as well.

In the new quiet, I let myself slide to the floor as my grief rears forward, choking me with the loss of my first love.

* * *

**December 15th, 1998  
The Winter Ball  
(Continued)**

"That's what you said, isn't it? That I'm just a stupid muggleborn who's always trying to make up for the fact that I wasn't born into _this_ world?" My voice is quiet, but I'm taken back to that day in my flat and all I feel is fury.

All around, people have stopped to stare and I feel my cheeks heat. I take a step forward, straightening my spine.

"I came back to Hogwarts so I could finish what I started when I was eleven. Not to _brag_. Not to be better than anyone else. Just to learn." I took another step toward him. "I'm with Draco, not because I'm stupid. Not because he tricked me. But because, instead of holding onto insecurities and hatred, we chose to be friends. And that led us together. The war brought us _together._" I spare a glance back at him. His hands are in fists as he watches me, his eyes alight with desperation, and the desire to step in and help me.

"You're just another notch in the ferret's bedpost." Ron's voice is deathly quiet. "Just another Slytherin whore."

Behind him, Pansy whimpers, a soft hiccoughed sob, then covers her face and darts away. Blaise, standing off to the side, rushes after her, pushing past people and calling her name.

Tears suddenly overflow from my own eyes, but before I can say anything, Draco's there. His fist connects with Ron's face, sending him flying onto his back. Ron is up in a moment, wand drawn.

"Sectumsempra!" he yells, and my heart nearly stops. Draco still has the scar from when Harry used that hex on him in sixth year. It nearly killed him the first time.

"Protego!" Harry yells, darting in front of the hex, protecting Draco and myself.

Draco looks back at me, his eyes wide with fear, only softening slightly when he sees that I'm OK. His head whips back around to face Ron, who glares at us, wand still drawn.

"Drop it, Ron!" Harry yells, glasses askew. He keeps himself between Draco and Ron and I suddenly wonder what was in those letters Draco wrote.

Ron looks past both of them to stare at me. "You've let this Death Eater bastard near you?" He lowers his wand and sneers at me. "I can't believe I ever let myself be touched by someone like _you_."

It's the final straw. As everyone in the Great Hall looks at me, something inside me breaks. A dam breaks and my of emotions rush forth. I feel the tears well to and I take off, running from the Great Hall.

_How did I get here?_

Tears pour down my face as I hide behind the tapestry in the fourth floor corridor. I hold my knees against my chest, burying my face, trying to be quiet. People are calling my name-Harry and Ginny-looking for me, but I just keep my eyes closed tight.

_How did things go so wrong?_

And then, there are hands on me, firmly gripping my shoulders, pulling me toward strong arms and a broad chest. My fingers grip his robes as I let him hold me up.

"It's OK," he whispers against my cheek. His breath is warm and tickles the hairs that have fallen forward. "I'm so sorry. For everything, But it's all going to be OK."

His voice cracks and his hands on me shake and I feel panic rise up in my chest.

_Not you too._

"No." My voice is scratchy as I look up at him, hard to see in the dark. I scramble so that I am on my knees, my hands gripping his cheeks, scratchy with a day's worth of white-blond stubble. "You can't leave me."

"Hermione." His voice is quiet but I hear in his voice what he means to do. I grip his robes in my fingers more tightly.

"I hear it. In your voice. You're going to try to fix all of this by leaving." I lean in and press my forehead to his, the pain of what just happened dimming as his breath cools the trails of tears on my cheeks. "Please don't leave me," I whisper against his lips and I feel him slump.

"All of this is my fault," he says, and suddenly I'm the one holding him up. "If I'd just listened-" His voice chokes off as his grip on my arms tightens.

_You're wrong. I need you._

I press my lips to his to stop him from going over what had already been done. He hesitates for only a moment before kissing me back. His mouth against mine is insistent-firm, but gentle. And then he's kissing the corner of my mouth, my nose, my eyes, my cheeks. He stroking my arms and pulling me to stand so he can pull me that much closer. I wrap my arms around him and bury my head in soft space where his neck meets his shoulder. He smells like cedar and I sigh, feeling my tension melt.

_Please don't leave me._

I place small, open mouth kisses on his neck and he kisses the corner of my eye, my forehead, my hair, the smooth stretch of skin beneath my ear.

"I won't leave," he says, his voice rough and raw, like he's been screaming. "Because I'm selfish, and I love you." My heart stutters as I try to nuzzle closer to his skin. "And I'm so sorry for that."

"I need you," I whisper and he laughs without humor.

"It's my fault you're sitting in the dark, crying. It's my fault-"

"It's _his _fault. Not yours," I say as I rest my head in the crook of his neck. "He was like this before you. It's not your fault."

He sighs and pulls me closer.

"Where's Ron?" I ask, hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

"Gone. McGonnagall kicked him out after Potter punched him even harder than I did."

"Harry punched him?" I ask, trying to envision it. Harry had taken up for me before, but never like that.

He nods against my head. "He's looking for you," he says, rubbing circles into my back. "Him and Ginny. I can walk you to them and go back to the common room or-"

I rear back and stare at him. I take in the way his mouth droops, the haunted look in his eyes. "Why wouldn't you come with me?"

"After what was said, I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable." His voice is low and scratchy and my heart breaks. He thinks I ran because I believed some part of what Ron had said. He thinks I ran in shame.

I take his arm from around me, the one with the Mark, and I kiss it through his jacket. I take his hand and press it against my cheek.

"I ran because one of my oldest friends was screaming horrible things at me on a night that should have been beautiful, not because the things he was screaming were in any way _true._" I kiss his palm. "When I came back to Hogwarts, I thought it would be to learn and grow as a witch. And I have." I kiss his palm again and hold his hand against my sternum. "But what's more important is that by coming back, I found _you_." I feel new tears slip from my eyes, and his thumb gently rubs them away as he stares down at me, silver eyes filled love.

"Hermione-" his voice cracks and I press my lips to his, wanting to pour the love I feel for him into that kiss. I feel magic crackle all around us, warming me like bluebell flames, until I pull away.

"How did you know where to find me?" I ask, offering him my hand. He takes it and kisses my knuckles, guiding me away from the little alcove covered by a tapestry where I'd hidden to collect my thoughts. He points back to the tapestry-a dragon flying in a moonlit night.

_A dragon. My_ _dragon._

"_You_ found _me_," he says with a shrug and a smirk. I kiss the corner of his mouth and let him wrap his arm around my shoulders.

As we walk, I start to piece together all that's happened. Harry and Draco writing letters. Harry protecting me _and _Draco, standing between us and his best friend. My conversation with Blaise, where he insinuated that Draco's feelings were me weren't new. Suddenly I _have _to know what he meant when he said _finally in the picture_.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder. It seems neither of us is in a huge rush to get back to the Ball as we slowly walk through the halls.

"Always," he says as he kisses my hair.

"When did-" I bite back a sudden rush of foolish nerves. "When did you develop _feelings _for me?" It seems so silly to worry over such a thing when then person I'm asking has seen all of me, has seen me bare my emotions and my past in a way that no other person had.

He chuckles and kisses my hair again. "I take it you had a conversation with Blaise?" He gently releases my shoulder and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers. I nod and he smiles at me, before he twirls me as if we were dancing. I land against him, hands on his chest, and laugh lightly.

"I wish I could say it was some beautiful, romantic moment," he says as he looks down into my eyes. "Like, I saw you in your periwinkle dress at the Yule Ball and fell head over heels." He spins me away again, then spins me back, now with my back against his chest. His chin rests on my shoulder and he leans his cheek against mine. "But it wasn't. Though, of _course _I noticed you at the Yule Ball. You were stunning, the most beautiful girl there, but you see, I was already pretty smitten by then."

I lean so that I can see his face. "So, when?"

His lips quirk up in a smirk. "Third year. Right after you punched me in the face and broke my nose."

"What?" I cover my mouth as a loud laugh threatens to break through. "No."

"I'm afraid so." He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it before dragging me back to his side as we continue our walk to find my friends. "You walked up to me, this righteous anger burning in your beautifully bright eyes, and you socked me. And after, even though it _hurt_-and I mean it _really, really hurt_-to open my eyes, I did, and your eyes were staring right back at me, shining with justice."

I blush and he chuckles.

"That was the moment I first _saw _you, Hermione. Really saw you. Fighting for what was right and good. After that, for me, there was no going back."

I shrug and look up at him, pulling my bottom lip through my teeth. "I just thought you were a git that needed to be punched."

He laughs big and loud and it sends chills down my arms. "And so I was." He kisses my temple and we continue on, back toward the Great Hall.

* * *

We find Harry and Ginny a few minutes later. Draco had already helped wipe the tears from my cheeks and I face them with a smile, knowing I look like a wreck.

Ginny hugs me, her own tears press against my skin. Harry shakes Draco's hand-something I never thought I'd see-and then crushes me in a fierce hug. Both he and Ginny apologize over and over for Ron, but I wave them off. It's not their job to protect him. Harry assures me that he'll be kicked out of Grimmauld Place before the morning, and Ginny, holding Harry's hand, nods firmly in agreement.

We plan to meet up at the next Hogsmeade weekend, just the four of us, four a double date. Even the thought of it is surreal. But Harry and Draco share a look, and Ginny laughs, and suddenly the night isn't so terrible.

When we make it back to our shared Common Room, I take Draco's hand and lead him to his room. Blaise isn't back yet-a part of me hopes he's off with Pansy, winning her over-and I pull Draco to his bed. Still in our formal wear, he strokes my back and rakes his fingers through my hair while I play with his fingers and kiss his palms. We fall asleep an hour or so later, wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

**July 1st, 2000  
The Day After the Leaving Feast**

As the train pulls out of the station, I watch Hogwarts fade away into the distance, covered by hills and clouds. Beautiful. In the compartment, sitting just behind me, is Draco with a closed book on his lap. I retreat from the window to sit next to him, my head on his shoulder as sunlight gently pours in across our legs.

"_Ender's Game?_" I ask, remembering the book he was reading on the first day of school. He nods.

"A young boy, fighting for a cause he doesn't understand, and wanting to rectify his mistakes in the end." He shrugs and offers the book to me. "It may be muggles set in space, but it applies to my life pretty closely, I think."

I grin. "Commander of _Dragon Army. _But, in the end, Ender doesn't get to leave all of his past behind to forge a new life someone who's head over heels in love with him."

He laughs. "No, but he leaves with his sister. So that's similar. Sort of."

I smack his arm and giggle before laying my head back down. "Well, I'd say having a girlfriend who loves you more than anything, and who wants to snog you senseless at any given moment on any given day, is a better ending that what this Ender fellow got."

He gently pushes me off of his shoulder so he can recline and pull me against his chest. I eagerly snuggle in, inhaling his scent, letting his body heat radiate into me and fill me up.

He kisses my temple through my curls, left loose and wild, just like he likes. "Much better."

I grin into his shirt-a tee shirt he'd bought one weekend in Hogsmeade when I told him he didn't have enough casual clothes-and let my hand rest on top of his Dark Mark. He still kept it covered most of the time, but not around me. Because he trusted me. That thought alone causes a a grin to break out across my face.

_How did we get here? _

"So," he says, wrapping his strong arms around, caging me in in a lovely way. "Now that we're graduates, adults and all, what do you want to do? We'll get our N.E.W.T. scores in a month or so, but what until then?"

Ron used to ask me that question over and over. _What are you going to do now? _And it always filled me fear and anger. But now, all I can do is smile and rub my fingers over the scarred skin of his forearm as he twirls a curl around the fingers of his other hand.

"I don't know," I say honestly, leaning up to kiss his jaw. He smiles and meets my lips with his. "But as long as I'm with you, I'm sure we'll figure it out."

He kisses me again, letting his warm lips linger on my lips just long enough to stir heat in my belly. "While we're figuring it out-" he kisses my nose, "Didn't you say you had a flat waiting for you?"

I feel the heat grow as I imagine being in my flat with him. Alone. With no one around to interrupt or give us their opinions.

"I do." My voice is breathy and I have to clench and unclench my thighs as his hands on me tighten the slightest bit, his cheeks tinging pink.

He kisses my nose again, then my cheeks, then my lips, lingering there. When he pulls back, he meets my gaze, and all I want to do is stay right here, melting into him. His breath tickles my lips as he says, "Well, I say we start there." And then he ruins the mood by lifting his eyebrows at me and smirking. I laugh and he tugs me back down to his chest, where I rest my hand over his heart.

I feel his heart beating steadily beneath my hand and I turn my face just enough to kiss his chest. "I think that's a great idea."

_Fin._

* * *

**Well everyone, that's a wrap! I'll be posting one final chapter (probably tomorrow), but it doesn't continue the plot. I thought it might be fun to explore the secret letters than Draco and Harry sent back and forth, and so I'll be posting said letters tomorrow for anyone who's interested in reading them.**

**To everyone who's taken the time to read, review, bookmark, and favorite this story, thank you! I appreciate you all so very much!**


	6. The Letters

**This is not, I repeat NOT, a regular chapter. Rather, these are the letters written between Draco and Harry during the time this story takes place. I had fun writing them, and I hope you have fun reading them. And if not, well, as long as you enjoyed the story, I'm good. **

* * *

**November 6th, 1999**

_Potter,_

_I can't tell you how many drafts of this letter I've written and thrown away. I don't even know if you'll read this one, but I figure the worst that can happen is you'll set the parchment on fire and possibly send me a Howler in return. So, what's the harm, right?_

_That being said, I hope you __**do **__read it, because what I have to say is important. It's about Granger._

_ But first, I want to apologize (which is incredibly difficult for me, mind you). For all the terrible things I've ever said to you, or every done to you, I'm sorry. I wish I could blame it all on my upbringing, or my circumstances, but I can't. You get under my skin, Potter. You have since the day we met in Madam Malkins. I remember feeling so excited, I thought perhaps I'd met an equal, and when you wouldn't be my mate, well, it made me hate you._

_Not that I __**hate **__you, mind. Just that, well, I hated you._

_Bloody hell. I'm really blowing this, aren't I?_

_All that's to say, I wish I hadn't been an arrogant, hateful prat. I wish we had been able to be, if not mates, then at least civil to one another. I wish we hadn't fought on opposite sides of a bloody, horrible war. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I just need you to know that I'm sorry._

_Now, with that in mind, I need to talk to you about Granger. She's the reason I hope you'll read this letter through to the end._

_Granger is someone I've been more horrible to than most. From our first year on, she bested me. At almost everything (well, we both know she's rubbish at flying), she was better. And she was muggleborn. That never sat right with parents, and in my arrogant, prattish youth, it didn't sit right with me. But I was a stupid git. You know that, Potter. And I was dead wrong._

_Now, you must wonder why I'm telling you all this. If I feel this way, why not tell Granger? Well, I have. I mean to say, I've apologized for being a prat, I've extended the olive branch, and wouldn't you know it, she's forgiven me. Of course, that's probably not a surprise for you. You got to grow up with her. I mean, I suppose we all grow up together, but you got to grow up __**with **__her. So you know how forgiving she is. _

_I'm rambling. Bloody hell, how is this so hard to say? Well, I suppose I'll just come out and say it then. It's not like you can hex me through post._

_Oh, God. Please don't send me something cursed through the post._

_Well, I'll just have to risk it._

_This morning, Granger sent you a letter telling you that she's seeing someone. I know because I sat with her while she wrote it. I watched her hands shake as she tied the parchment to the owl's leg. And I was there, watching all this, because that someone just happens to be me._

_I know, that's seems impossible. Trust me, I can hardly believe it myself, but it's true. Over the past few months, we've become friends. Really good friends. She's still better than me in all our classes, and she still can't fly a broom to save her life, but around that, I've gotten to know her. _

_I know her favorite dessert is a tie between lemon pastries and pumpkin pie. Her favorite color is blue, and her favorite book is a muggle novel called __Little Women__. __(I read it, just to see what all the fuss was about, and it's actually quite good. Hermione is very much like the Jo character, I think.) I know that Weasley, coward that he is, left the both of you while you were out, risking your lives, to find those damned horcruxes, and that he came back (far too late if you ask me), only to turn around and completely break her heart just weeks before this term began. I know that her parents are being treated for lost memories, because she had to obliviate them to keep them safe, and that aside from them, **you're** her family. I know that when she smiles, her eyes crinkle around the edges, and when she's thinking particularly hard about something, she chews her bottom lip so hard I'm afraid she may split it. And I know that I care about her more than I've told her, more than I can even give words to. _

_You, Granger, and even Weasley have been through so much together. When she wrote you, she was afraid. She didn't tell you it was me, because she knew you'd worry, and maybe be angry with her. Given our history, she figured you'd try to come rescue her, or try to come kill me, and she wants-we both want-time to figure out what we are first. What we mean to each other._

_But the reason I'm writing you and telling you this, is because I see how much it hurts her for you not to know, to not be able to tell you everything. You know how she gets when she feels passionately about something. She wants to tell everyone she meets, to spread the word far and wide. She's an open book, that one. So feeling like she can't share this with you is eating at her, and I just want to help. _

_I realize that hearing this may not be something you can wrap your mind around in a single day, if ever. So I'm writing you, risking a Howler or worse, so that you can have time to process all of this without accidentally taking it out on her._

_I know it's a lot. I know hearing that a person you love dearly is in a relationship with a person you hate is difficult, but I want-no I __**need**_ _you to know that from this moment forward, I will do everything in my power to make sure she's happy, to keep her safe, and to do everything in my power to make up for all the pain I've caused her._

_Granger...__**Hermione**__, is the most incredible person I've ever met. I wanted to be upfront with you about all of this, because I desperately want what she and I have to work. And to do that, we'll need you on board. But you can't tell her I told you. She needs to decide when she's ready to tell you, and even though I've really messed that up here, it's for her, for the greater good. So, there's that._

_So now you hold my future and my happiness, Potter. The quaffle's in your hands._

_Cheers,  
__Draco Malfoy_

* * *

**November 10th, 1999**

Malfoy,

What the bloody hell? I don't even know what to say.

You and Hermione? It just seems so...I mean **WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!**

I'd almost decided not to respond, sure this was some sort of trick or prank. I was so close to flooing McGonnagall and asking for permission to come check in on Hermione, sure you were planning something horrible. Just like she was afraid I'd do.

But then I stopped. And thought. And I re-read Hermione's letter, describing her new boyfriend, and dammit it all if I didn't start to feel _less _angry.

I really want to be angry about this, Malfoy. Hermione is my family. My sister. I love her more than almost anyone on this earth. And hearing that she's with you, after everything we've been through, just doesn't make sense.

Or, rather, it didn't at first.

But let me slow down a moment. I don't know quite what I want to say. I'm having to write this in the loo, of all places, to keep it hidden. If Ron saw, it would be bad. Very bad. Since Hermione dumped him, his temper's gotten worse. Every little thing sets him off. And this, well, this might cause a full meltdown.

So, back to what I was saying before, I want to say something that's just as hard for me to say as you apologizing. It _pains _me to say it. But, I forgive you. Bloody hell. I forgive you. And I blame Hermione for that, for setting the bloody example. But I do. And also, just for clarity, you're not the person I hate most. Sure, we're not mates, and sure, we've tried to almost kill each other a few times, but...well, I suppose that does sound an awful lot like hate, doesn't it? Regardless, I don't hate you. I don't like you, surely, but I don't hate you. And...I appreciate the apology. And also, sorry about that curse, sixth year. I didn't know what it did at the time. If I had...well, I'm just sorry, is all.

Now, back to Hermione.

Everything in me is telling me to trust what you're saying, and that's a really strange feeling. I keep reading your letter, and then reading hers, and there's just something that makes me _want _to trust you. I want to tell her, obviously, but I know Hermione **better **than you, and if she didn't want me to know, telling her that you went behind her back to tell me wouldn't bode well for you,. You know that look she gets, right before she knocks you down a peg or three? Well, if I told her, that's the look she'd give you. And if I could cause that, I would. But I wouldn't be there to see it, and that would just be a waste. So, no, Malfoy, I won't tell her I know. Merlin help me, I suppose you and I are in this together now.

Bloody hell.

Before I go, I just need to ask...why Hermione? Why now?

Be good to her, Malfoy, or I'll come after you with everything in me.

-Harry

* * *

**November 11th, 1999**

_Potter,_

_I was getting nervous you wouldn't respond at all, or perhaps someone else-namely your ginger-haired roommate-intercepted my letter. Thank you, sincerely, for writing back._

_Just so we're square, I forgive you for that hex. So, we're even, I suppose. At least as far as apologies go._

_Right. Well._

_You asked me a question. Why Hermione? Why now? So I'll answer in two parts._

_Why Hermione. Well, I think that should be fairly obvious. She's gorgeous, for starters. Never have I met someone who cares so little about makeup and hair and all that rubbish, who also just naturally exudes beauty. Especially when she's riled up over something. Her hair gets all big, charged with magic, and there's this look in her eyes that's both terrifying and wonderful. Have you ever looked at her eyes, Potter? I mean __**really **__looked? They're the color of coffee with cream, with little gold flecks that seem to spark when she really feels something. But, her looks are only part of it, obviously._

_She's brilliant, too. But you already knew that. Even when we're not in classes, she's figuring out puzzles, putting pieces together and solving the world around her like a ginormous equation. And it's not just logical things. She's insightful about the people around her, which can be bloody irritating if I'm being honest, especially when I want to surprise her with something. Though, I've managed to pull of a surprise or two so far that she didn't see coming. But, I digress._

_She's also kind. She's good. I mean, __**truly **__good. The kind of good I'd only ever read about in novels. The kind of good, I suppose, that you are. The kind of good I'd never experienced in my whole life until I started paying real attention to her. She's so, so bloody good, through and through, and she's somehow extended that goodness and that kindness to me, and it blows me away every single day._

_But you also want to know why now. Well, that's a bit more difficult to explain. Because this isn't a sudden realization, you know. This goes all the way back to third year, the day Hermione punched me square in the nose. She packs a mean right hook, and it hurt like hell, but it was her eyes after she'd done it-she believed that punching me was just. It was something I'd never seen before, someone with so much conviction, willing to go out on a limb for something, even if it was something as simple as punching a prat like me in the nose for saying ignorant things. It was fascinating, Potter. She was fascinating._

_From that moment on, she was it for me. _

_Of course, I never thought anything would ever come of those feelings. For starters, I was raised to think of her as beneath me, all because of who her parents were. That sort of thing is hard to shake for a thirteen-year-old boy. Then, of course, there was the whole she-hated-my-guts part of this. Followed by You-Know-Who moving into my house and taking over and polluting every aspect of my day to day. _

_I never thought she'd go for me, never thought I'd have the chance to try to get to know her, especially when You-Know-Who was around. I definitely owe you a thank you for that one, for getting rid of him for the rest of us. If he'd ever known of my feelings for Hermione, she would have been in so much more danger than she was already._

_All that being said, it wasn't until this year that I ever had the chance, without prejudice or evil overlords or overbearing parents hanging over my head, to do what I'd wanted to do over five years-just talk to her. That's all I wanted. And then, to my absolute surprise, she wanted to talk to me back._

_Bloody hell, I'm gushing. I realize you probably don't want to read all this, but you asked, and the only other person I've ever talked to about Hermione is Zabini, and right now, he's busy pining over his own girl while fake-dating your ex-girlfriend._

_Oh, right. I don't know why you and Ginny aren't together, but know that she's bloody miserable without you. She hasn't told me that, of course, but she's told Blaise. They have some sort of agreement-he pretends to date her, and girls leave him alone while he figures out his feelings about a girl he's loved for years, and she pretends to date him so the boys leave her alone. I just thought, you know, you might want to know that she's not actually with him. Or anyone for that matter._

_Well, enough of that. Thanks again for, you know, not coming to Hogwarts and beating the living daylights out of me._

_Cheers,  
__Draco_

* * *

**November 12th, 1999**

Malfoy,

Ginny isn't seeing anyone? At all? I'd heard, from Neville, that she was close with Zabini, and I'll be honest, I feared...but you're saying she isn't?

That's, I mean. That's great news.

Thank you.  
-H

P.S. And just so you know, I believe you. All that about Hermione, well, like I said, I know her better than you, so I believe you.

* * *

**November 17th, 1999**

_Potter,_

_How in world can you live with a piece of human garbage like Ron Weasley? How can you say you love Hermione so much, and still stomach the __**sight**_ _of that arse? _

_Then again, maybe you don't know. She said she hadn't told anyone except me. _

_Just...what did Hermione tell you, or the Weasel, perhaps, what did they tell you about their break up? Because with what she told me tonight, it's taking every bit of restraint I have not to apparate there and beat the bloody hell out of him. _

_-Malfoy_

* * *

**November 18th, 1999**

Malfoy,

I spoke to Ron this morning. I got your letter last night, but I didn't know what to say.

Honestly, Hermione never really talked to me about it. I knew they had been fighting, knew Ron had a temper, but that wasn't anything new.

So, I spoke to Ron. I told him I was thinking of inviting Hermione over for Christmas, then asked him why they broke up. Played it off like I wanted to make sure things would be awkward. I expected for him to gloss over somethings, but instead he lied straight to my face. I know he lied, because I know Hermione, and the things he said about her were...well, they just weren't true. Trust me, you don't want me to repeat them.

Needless to say, I don't know anything **true **about any of their breakup, and I'm realizing what a dreadful friend that makes me.

Whatever you can tell me, please tell me. I won't ask you to share things she shared with you in confidence, things she would never want me to know. But, I want to know whatever you can tell me.

And, even though I know you can't tell her we're corresponding, just give her my love. Somehow.

-Harry

* * *

**November 20th, 1999**

_Potter,_

_I'm sorry I was so angry in my last letter. I shouldn't have taken that anger out on you, what with our newfound...the word friendship feels wrong, somehow._

_I just assumed, since you lived with him, that you'd know. But she wouldn't even have told me if I hadn't found her crying in the bathroom in the middle of a panic attack._

_I can't say much. I don't want to betray her trust about this, of all things. But I can say that he hurt her, in more ways than one. And if it weren't for her needing me there with her, in that moment, I would have left straight away and I don't know what I would have done to him. _

_She keeps saying, over and over, that the war damaged him. That he wasn't always like he is now. But the war damaged us all. You know that better than most, Potter. Being damaged doesn't give any person the right to damage someone else, especially someone as pure and loving as Hermione Granger. _

_Just know that your __friend_ _hurt your sister in ways that make me want to vomit, and if we see you at in a few weeks for the Winter Ball, it will take a lot for me to restrain myself. He hurt her, really hurt her, and she still hasn't fully recovered from it._

_As for the Ball, Hermione would really love it if you would come. I can't tell if she's more hopeful that you __**will **__come, or that he __**won't. **__But I know seeing you would give her a lot of joy. She has this ambitious hope that one day, you and I might become friends. Fancy that._

_She wants to meet you at the train station alone. She's afraid of what you'll do if you see me there. I want to honor that request, but I don't think I'll be able to. Not if the Weasel is coming, too. I can't stomach the thought of her facing him without me there at her side. I don't know what I would do if I left her there, alone, and he hurt her again._

_For Hermione's sake, I hope we see you December 1. Also, don't bring a date. There's a certain ginger-haired lady who, though she'll be on Blaise's arm, is desperately hoping you'll have time for a dance. (Blaise's words, not mine.)_

_See you,  
__Draco_

* * *

**November 30th, 1999**

M-

I know Hermione told you that both Ron and I plan to come to the Ball, but I wanted to give you a heads up before we arrive. Ron's bringing a date, and it's Pansy Parkinson.

They're not actually together, but he's somehow convinced her to come, hoping to make Hermione jealous, while also showing her you can't be trusted by flaunting your ex-girlfriend in your face. I don't think Pansy is totally on board, but she really wants to get back to Hogwarts, it seems.

Oh. The other thing. Ginny wrote us about a week ago, told us that it was _you _Hermione was dating. She said she wanted us to know, because Hermione was so happy, and we weren't to muck it up no matter what. She threatened us with her bat bogey hex, which, if you've ever seen it is definitely something to be frightened of. So, it's OK that we know now, and if Hermione figures out I already knew, we have an out.

Anyway. I know-and don't ask me _how _I know, I just do-that seeing your ex- will not affect your relationship with Hermione, but still, I figured a heads up couldn't hurt, right?

We'll see you tomorrow.

Oh, and even if Hermione says she wants to meet us alone, I think you should tag along anyway. She puts on a brave front, but it's mostly because we've always been too stupid to see when she needs us. I hope you'll be better to her than we ever were.

-H

* * *

**January 3rd, 2000**

_Potter,_

_I let Hermione read our letters. I've never seen such a strange mixture of anger and pure joy on a person's face all at once. She wants you to know that if you ever want to know more about what happened with the Weasel, all you have to do is ask. After the Ball, she says she's ready to talk about it all. And if I'm being honest, I think talking about it with you would help her, particularly._

_Thanks for socking him one for me. Er, for Hermione._

_-Malfoy_

_P.S. Hermione is insisting I tell you that Zabini and Parkinson are making a go of it. I'm not sure why she'd think you care, but she's standing beside me now, positively bouncing with joy at the thought of it. So, there you have it. Huzzah for love, and all that._

* * *

**January 23rd, 2000**

Malfoy,

I owe you for those butterbeers this past weekend. I mean, I know you can swing it, but it's the principle of the thing. You understand.

Ginny and I were talking after you and Hermione left The Three Broomsticks. We both agree that we've never seen Hermione as happy as she is with you. It's like a light switch has been turned on inside her and it just pours out of her when she talks. And believe me, even though I now consider you a friend (somehow, that still doesn't seem right), it pains me to realize that Draco Malfoy can give her what she needs, when I cannot.

So, mate, even though it's a bit overdue, I want you to know that as Hermione's family, you have my blessing. Just keep taking care of her, and we won't have any problems.

Cheers,  
Harry

* * *

**January 24th, 2000**

_Potter,_

_For the record, us being mates was not something I planned, but for what it's worth it, I'm glad for it. And as for those butterbeers, drinks can most definitely be on you next time._

_I'm happy to see you and the Weaslette together again. She spends a lot of time with Hermione and me now, and I find her quite fascinating. And quite terrifying. As a bloke who loves another Gryffindor witch, equally fascinating and equally terrifying, all I can say is congratulations, and I hope that we can stick together when they inevitably gang up on us for something or another. It will happen, and I'm not sure either of us can handle it alone._

_Also, I quite consider Weaslette my friend now as well, so on her behalf, I feel I must say-take care of her, Potter. Be good to her or I'll come after you with everything in me. And I'll have Hermione to help._

_Also, Hermione would like me to pass along the following message:_

_**Your blessing means the world to me, Harry Potter. I love you so incredibly much and I cannot wait until our next double date. Hugs! -Hermione**_

_Obviously I'd never say such a thing, especially with how very emotional and embarrassing it is, but one doesn't say no to Hermione Granger. At least not someone as in love with her as I am. For her, I might even end a letter to you with "hugs." But not today._

_Hope to see you soon, Potter._

_-Draco_


End file.
